descend
by tutb88
Summary: Their roles must be reversed. It's Shaw who must be chained to the wall in the basement of some nondescript shitty house in the middle of fucking Westchester out of all places.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

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The shackles refused to give up. Erik was methodically pulling at unyielding chains which so far have stubbornly kept his hands above his head since the time he came to his senses half an hour ago.

Slick rivulets of blood slowly crept down forearms — the only thing he succeeded to achieve today is injuring himself even further. Fuck, after everything he's been through he can't die like this. Erik was fairly sure that his wounds were not that serious — he'd definitely had worse. Being a hunter was equivalent to surviving through pain. And who was Erik if not a top survivor.

A low, distant screeching sound echoed from the dark corner to his left. The door? Erik strained his ears and closed eyes for good measure — it's not as if he could see in the dark anyway. Is someone coming?

Silence fell again. More suffocating than before, whispering in his ear the quiet litany of despair, grief and still tiny, but rising voice of fear.

Erik slowly breathed in through intensifying pain in his chest.

Regardless how severe, he can control it, must overcome it and free himself before he comes. Erik gritted his teeth. Anger, potent and burning like thousand suns overpowered everything.

Shaw.

That bastard.

Their roles must be reversed. It's Shaw who must be chained to the wall in the basement of some nondescript shitty house in the middle of fucking Westchester out of all places.

Hellhole? Why the hell not? Shaw was currently laying low as far as Erik was notified by his reluctant source in the Brotherhood. Didn't consider Shaw worth their valuable time. Effective force distribution, duty and collaboration were casually thrown in Erik's face that one time when he asked for assistance. Begged, really.

But who cares now…

Erik must have spaced out for a moment which was a dangerous sign in itself.

He was greeted by the sound of the opening door.

Light flickered on.

Erik immediately recognized the woman standing in the doorway. One of Shaw's lackeys barely dressed in white stripes, too revealing for autumn here, considering the latitude. Alive and breathing.

Erik first thought was — shit, an oblivious blondie-hooker destined to become the main course of tonight's menu.

That is how his impeccable senses have failed him for the first time in many years.

She hit him. Hard. Collision with opposite wall rendered Erik wheezing. He barely avoided her second punch. Shaw started blubbering in the background by then. The usual nonsense which Erik casually dismissed. Shaw has been made of some pretty creepy stuff. Better turn him off for a moment.

Meanwhile, Erik silently cursed to himself. Succubus. Yeah, he's always lucky like that.

After all it was the red demon who's got him in the end.

And Shaw didn't even lift a finger.

Something has gone wrong with this world.

Vampires never formed alliances of any kind. Vampires seldom gathered in pairs always driven with vicious need to kill. They were meant to exist in solitude. Rare examples only cemented the ancient truth. And yet here was Shaw sitting in the plush armchair with succubus on his lap and demon as a guard dog.

The foundations of Erik's life have crumbled to dust.

"Never had a hunter before…" Erik heard a gentle whisper that did strange things to senses. And other hmm… body parts.

Damn pheromones.

"You must be quite a feast", air suddenly became hot and Erik rattled his hands one more time only to aggravate his wounds and chase away sudden lightheadedness.

"Unfortunately", she drawled, taking a measured step back, "Sebastian says we need you alive, sugar."

She sighed and evidently attempted to share some sort of succubian wisdom while he was so conveniently in no position not to listen to any of this. Probably, Shaw is a sorry conversationalist. Well, his condolences. By the way, aren't you supposed to be extinct?

Suddenly, intensely loud sound, followed by bright flashes reverberated through the walls and made Erik cringe. Eventually it got weaker and Erik, half deaf and slightly nauseous, managed to crack his eyes open.

Succubus was held in the tight grip by one bulky growling creature. Erik decided that his eyes are playing tricks, because there shouldn't be any werewolves in the house. The moon is young, for god's sake.

"Hank, let her go!" the person next to the beast somehow sounded both soothing and imperative.

Demon's appearance was accompanied by the smell of sulfur in the stale air.

In that very moment the shackles finally gave up and Erik blocked the blade aimed at his neck by pure instinct, using chain remnants as an improvised shield. Under the force of the blow he stumbled back and nearly cracked his head on the stone wall.

Growling and screaming seemed farther away now. He didn't even realize how he found himself on the ground. No, don't black out. Don't!

Through the sickening vertigo he felt the grip on his shoulders and tried to pull away.

_Easy there, everything will be alright_—the voice from before was suspiciously close.

How awful, he thought, to hear these words again and to lose…

Failed. He's failed her.

And then came darkness.

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	2. Part 1

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The return to the world of living was slow; Erik, regaining only partial awareness, heard quiet voices in the room, and this time it was the room, not the basement, he was sure of it. The air was fresh and spoke of large spaces. He could smell the discreet flowery odor of expensive perfume. A woman? To his utter surprise, sheets were also crisp and fresh. Actually, Erik couldn't remember the last time he rested in the soft, comfortable bed. His car has been his home and stronghold for three years now, since the long-awaited day of graduation. He did promise his mother to get a decent education. She wanted him to live a normal life as well. That part of the promise will have to wait until he literally dusts Shaw, that is.

The clink of glass against wood signaled that someone's come to his bedside.

"I think, I shouldn't leave you alone. Who knows what he will be up to awake. Those hunters give me the creeps."

"Raven," the reply was exasperated and strangely affectionate, the owner of the voice — Erik stiffened and struggled to remain motionless — the same from the basement.

"… and besides they don't hurt your kind. The mark shall be given to those destined to became the incarnations of Nephilim to stand against the demons, the vampires and the forces of evil."

"Vampires! Exactly", hissed she in response, "And don't you dare quote this Rele… Relation on me anymore!"

"Elevation, Raven. The Book of Elevation which you were supposed to read ages ago."

"Whatever…" there was some rustling followed by hushed explanation, "Oh, come here, what's wrong with your hair today?"

"We're not changing the topic. And there's nothing wrong with it."

"Sure, Charles. When was the last time you looked in the mirror? Ouch, sorry…"

"Never mind, darling. Just go, Alex won't be waiting any longer."

Erik definitely heard snarling.

"Then I'll take another car. As if this is a problem! "

The door bang was loud enough to shook the foundations of the earth or raise the dead. Goddamn. Erik did his best to refrain from involuntary flinch. At least the door hasn't been locked.

"Excuse me, but you may open your eyes now. I know that you were awake long before Raven's little stunt, but nevertheless I apologize."

Erik grimly agreed with the voice, Charles, — she called him, and reluctantly obeyed, taking in his surroundings. The overall check started with high decorated ceiling, huge four poster bed — his body currently occupying hardly one fourth of the large space, heavy bottle green curtains safely preventing any sunrays from intruding. Rich wooden panels and vintage furniture reminded Erik of the posh hotel suit in New York where Shaw, that sleazy son of the bitch, stayed for the night. There's no need to add that Erik arrived too late that time.

Well, thinking about Shaw sharpened his senses and Erik finally snapped his gaze to the man at his bedside.

Pale, slim, average height, dark haired, and was that a structured messy look, courtesy of modern nightmarish fashion or, Erik watched in bewilderment as the man in question nervously run his fingers through heavy locks, or… just hand-combing. His eyes were unnaturally blue and in the artificial light looked almost frighteningly vivid.

"My name's Charles," he said with obvious accent and added in odd preposterous manner, the very reminder of the arrogant butler, "Welcome to my home and please be my guest."

All this time something was nagging at the back of Erik's mind, something he has realized from the very beginning and couldn't fathom. When he looked to his right and instantly spotted the small mirror, which adorned the wall, everything clicked.

Erik made a sound which might've been some sort of blasphemous growl and lunged forward. What was supposed to be a magnificent fluid motion turned into less dignified attempt to at least maintain proper footing, chest burning with abrupt pain.

Erik was no fool. Yes, he was almost naked, pajama pants and chest bandages notwithstanding, unarmed and injured but screw it; he's not going to let the vampire get him without a fight.

The heavy jar aimed at the fucker's head was dodged with lightning speed betraying inhuman reflexes. Fine, that was only a distraction. The back of the nearby chair so conveniently put next to his bed cracked in protest when Erik yanked out the wooden pole. There's nothing better than a good old stake to the heart.

"Erik, stop! Please, I mean you no harm, my friend. Besides, you're injured and it may be wise to get back to bed."

Erik seethed.

Not only the demon implies that Erik's stupid but also mocks him. The vampire was standing with his back to the window at safe distance and if Erik could somehow take down the curtains, the problem would immediately vanish. Literally.

Hmm, Erik stifled a pained gasp. Bloody hell, even standing hurt. In that case, he straightened his spine and acted like every single hunter was always taught to act. Like the one who runs shit.

"Who the fuck are you and what do you want?" growled Erik trying to maintain a stern expression, not a grimace of pain.

"Charles Xavier and we're in my house. You're Erik Lehnsherr, the hunter, judging by the tattoo on your forearm," Erik mentally slapped himself. Of course, the vampire would know. "And I'm sure, you'll be glad to hear it — Alex had found your car yesterday," he smiled and for a moment Erik could swear that he looked like he would blush which was crazy because vampires never did, "so, we took the liberty to look through some things, to identify the owner…"

"Tell me about it," snapped Erik. After all, he did like the car.

"We'd never…" indignantly protested the vampire.

Erik smirked, he didn't understand why, but provoking the monster was sort of fun. Also, this may be the last fun he gets while alive. The vampire seemed clueless but Erik knew that was probably a façade. With speed and strength of the demon and good healing factor, not mentioning often deceptive appearances, vampires would've been ultimate creatures of the dark — if not for vulnerabilities. Silver bullets, stakes to the heart, holy water to the eyes and the obligatory cross.

"You are a vampire," stated Erik the fact.

"I am," was response. "Though I defy the prejudices often misappropriated to my kind. So you see, that despite my umm… state, you, Erik, are a welcomed guest. You must be hungry, I can assist you to the kitchen or…"

"What?"

"Well, I can bring you something in here if you want."

"We're not changing the topic", Erik stuttered. Damn, he repeated after the vampire.

Erik's heard the noise from the corridor before he could react and soon the door was blocked by the bulky hairy creature. Werewolf, thought Erik. Great! Well, at least now he could safely say that the vampire was outnumbered.

"Charles?" growled the creature in quite comprehensible English, meekly clasping the paws together.

He had glasses and was blue. Blue werewolf in glasses. Erik needed some fresh air or a drink. Better both.

"Erik, are you alright?"

Vampire looked concerned which only added to vertigo in Erik's mind.

"Erm, Charles, I think you should go to the kitchen and bring a snack. I'll check the bandages."

"Okay," he beamed at werewolf and gestured to Erik. "Let me leave you for a moment. Hank is a competent young man; he'll treat your wounds."

Hank was indeed competent and by the looks of it knew what he was doing.

"Hey," started Erik when he was sure that vampire was too far to hear them,"What is this place? And what's happened to you? Is he keeping your family hostage?"

Either way, there has to be a reason for the sane being, even one covered in fur, to associate with vampire.

"Who? Charles?" there was a clear disbelief in Hank's voice. And the story Erik was told consisted of poorly glued lies.

So, the house indeed belongs to Charles. It belonged to Charles when he was still alive, not to a demon inhabiting Charles' body right now, mentally corrected Erik.

Hank didn't know Charles for long. He came to Westchester searching for cure two years ago. The magic is especially potent here due to the hellhole nearby, explained Hank. Apparently, something went wrong with the potion and he was left in the constant werewolf shape, luckily his human mind was intact. That's then he stumbled upon Charles and his adopted sister Raven. Charles offered him to stay here and since then Hank is occupying the basement. This time the eyes behind the glasses sparkled in delight. Charles knows a lot about magic himself and Hank's almost sure that with his help he'll find the cure.

Poor deluded fool — resumed Erik.

"But that doesn't explain how did you find me?"

Hank fiddled with his glasses — someone that big shouldn't be that nervous.

"Er, this is Raven's idea. We, sort of patrol the streets at night. Because, you know, there are not so many hunters to spare. And who in their right mind will agree to work straight on the hellhole."

"You know fairly a lot about my people."

"That's all that Logan told us. I swear!"

Logan? That asshole is still alive. Erik remembered the stories about the rough hunter always bringing trouble and mayhem everywhere he went. Out of all great seven families Logan was the last descendant of his line and so was Erik. Their kind didn't survive for long in places like Westchester. The postulate was – they didn't live long at all. The perks of the job.

Does it mean that Logan was here and alive and moreover — for some reason has spared the vampire.

The Brotherhood is in the dark or old geezers just don't give a damn, as usual.

"…we were trying to keep this a secret. Mainly from Charles, because Sean and Angel were afraid he'd be disappointed otherwise. It appears now that he understands us better than we presumed…"

Listening to the blubbering seven feet tall werewolf Erik realized a strange thing. This Hank and Raven from earlier must be very young, must be teenagers. That fueled his anger like nothing else, because for vampire to do this to children was ten times more god-awful than he previously imagined.

"Angel noticed a suspicious man in her neighborhood and followed him to the abandoned house they've kept you in. We moved out that night, Raven told Charles something about the party, but, I guess, he's already known and always followed behind. This time it was completely different, the vampire grabbed Angel and we didn't know what to do until Charles appeared. It was all a blur, so fast that when I smelled human in the basement I've darted forward and …I," he lowered the big burly head and murmured, "I lost control for a while. Charles said that was because of succubus… Her magic affects me better than others, so I…"

I'm neither a priest nor a shrink, grimly thought Erik. Why are you telling me this?

The voice deep inside whispered that Shaw is close, as close as he hasn't been in a lifetime.

All of this is not a simple coincidence: Shaw moving to the hellhole, Logan letting vampires live around in huge mansions, kids playing hunters after school. Somehow Erik grew in confidence that his quest for vengeance will end here, in Westchester.

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	3. Part 2

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"Nice somersault, Raven," saluted Erik from the bench where he was comfortably sitting, enjoying the show, "Does it look like you're striking anywhere close? Are you blind or what? Aim lower."

He was not worried in the least. All in all, the shapeshifter was the strong and agile girl with wonderful instincts. And hunting the 'freshly awakened' vampires was not complicated for a capable person with supernatural abilities. Speaking about old vampires like Shaw and his err… current landlord; well, comparing them was like comparing a pekinese to a wolf.

Two weeks have passed and Erik was finally again in the good shape. He heard the vampire talking to Hank, marveling at Erik's amazing healing rate and Erik let himself bask in the glory for a moment. He's a hunter, not a mere human. He's faster, stronger and can practically feel evil in the mile's radius.

The vampire evaporated in the cloud of dust and Raven produced a screeching battle cry which reminded Erik of Sean. Man, but he was loud.

Raven was chattering on the phone when he came up.

"Yeah, worry not! Everything's fine and I'm soon to be a graduated vampire slayer. Charles, you fool, of course not! They're more like animals really — all teeth, yellow eyes and roaring like mad dogs — hrrrr, hrrrr, like this."

She rather skillfully imitated vampire's growl. It comes with shapeshifting, decided Erik.

"I have to run, oh my vile brother, the instructor is here. See you!"

Raven snapped the phone in the pocket of her jacket and smiled at Erik. With long fair hair shining in the moonlight she looked younger than her appearance suggested and once again Erik felt doubt. Was he doing the right thing teaching this bunch of misfits to hunt? But this was hellhole as Hank has wisely pointed out. It's either kill or be killed. Besides, not all creatures could be exonerated from blame — the lawyer in Erik dutifully agreed. Take vampires, for instance. Abhorrent abominations, wearing human bodies but no souls inside, always seeking for blood, for war and chaos. Erik has rigorously followed Shaw's path through the previous century, every single piece of data more terrible than the previous. Shaw has tortured and killed four hunters, including Erik's mother. He still dreamt of her cries at bad nights — that evening replaying before his mind's eye again and again. The last thing he remembers was Shaw's wink, before Erik passed out from the overpowering grief and exhaustion to come to his senses and to the mutilated corpse. Didn't even manage to hold her gaze till the end. Pathetic.

"Erik, come on! Will you join me in mind as well as body!"

Raven waved both hands before his eyes to emphasize the point.

"Let's go home! Angel, Sean and Alex are already in the mansion. Angel tonight stays on the grounds to fly, Sean is actually doing homework and Alex is annoying Hank. Everyone's busy except Charles, so I suggest you go talk to him."

"About?" her attempts to make him befriend the vampire tested his patience.

Erik still didn't figure out how the vampire managed to charm everyone around; but there has to be something. Maybe, the spell. This Charles was adept in magic which he demonstrated by banishing the demon accidentally called to our dimension by one of Raven's classmates at school. That was some hell of the school, he had to admit. You're lucky if you survive to the end of the school year. Asking for more was a bad sign.

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When he was looking for the remnants of tonight's meal in the fridge, the back door opened and in came Charles.

Erik cursed to himself. He swore that he'd keep an eye on the monster. He was sure that the vampire was in his room upstairs, has checked an hour ago. Erik didn't hear any steps in the hall. Did he jump from the window? Raven's told him all he wanted and didn't want to hear about amazing Charles' habits, about his studies, — did you know that he speaks several dead languages, — and about drinking animals' blood.

"Erik, hello there! If you're hungry, I can show you where Raven hides the cookies."

"I'm not six," Erik eyed him warily — black trench coat and boots — doesn't want to attract attention, "Where are you going? It's past midnight."

"The only time I can go for a walk, indeed. I need to check on something in town," he smoothed down his hair. He often did it in Erik's presence which Erik found slightly disturbing.

Everything about him radiated unease right now — even the air smelled fishy.

"I'm coming with you," declared Erik.

"But you…"

"No buts. The keys?"

The vampire reluctantly took the keys off the hook near the door and passed them to Erik. His fingers were icy cold. Erik didn't fully expect himself to flinch and drop the keys. In the end he was not the one to pick them up and that fact along with the blankness in the other's eyes prompted him to talk some nonsense all the way to the garage to fill uneasy silence.

Soon he regretted that he himself encouraged the conversation and listened with grim expression to the happy blubbering of one very talkative vampire. The vampire was not discouraged by Erik's silence. On the contrary. Okay, he did tell a few interesting things: about the town's history, about the activity of the hellhole which was bordering on record these months, about coexistence between humans and supernatural beings which Erik promptly tried to tune off. The last phrase snapped back his attention.

"What do you mean?" Erik turned his head to look at the jerk.

"I can help you. To hunt down Shaw, I mean," has he just said 'hunt down' or is Erik hallucinating.

"What made you think that I'd accept your help? If anything, you're number four on my stabbing list and only thanks to that succubus scrum and the red demon you maintain that position. Otherwise, you'd be the second."

"I know," Erik strained his ears to hear the reply — it was so freaking quiet, "I believe in you, Erik. You'll do the right thing when the time comes and you won't hesitate. At any rate, you'll take care of the children."

"Do you imply that I'm…"

"Ah, looks like we're here. I'll be back in a minute. Could you stop the car?"

Erik stopped but he didn't let it go just like that. Who does he think he is? Giving some vague sentimental speech and disappearing in the dark.

"Hey, I've not finished," he climbed out of the car only to see the black silhouette swiftly leaping over the wall on the opposite side of the street.

Damn, lost him again. Erik struggled with need to move but he did say in a minute, right? He turned around and observed the impressive tree mass which, Raven told him, stretched all the way to the actual woods in the north. Tomorrow he will start searching and he'll look under every stone in the county if it helps him to find Shaw.

The vampire appeared with impeccable punctuality and Erik was mutely impressed. He was holding a package and smiling at Erik. Aha, never stops trying to worm his way in. Not for the first time Erik was confronted with regret — for the most part he almost wanted to meet the real Charles, to get to know him. There was something in the way he looked; his eyes, even devoid of soul, were extremely alluring. Erik's mother would say that Charles was easy on the eyes. He chased the thought away when he heard his name repeated for the second time. The vampire stuffed the package in the trunk and tensed.

"Erik," in an instant, the vampires' eyes sparked with golden light and he said, "I can smell blood."

Without a word, they simultaneously dashed to the intricate gates of the park entrance and found it closed.

"What kind of park is this anyway? Shouldn't they be open, say, to let the homeless in… Damn!"

"I believe, that was the purpose," mused the vampire from the top of the stone wall which embraced the park.

"Show off," smirked Erik and caught up with the vampire on the other side.

Moonlight was twining the shadows, cruelly playing with man's imagination and making the darkness more terrifying than it probably was. The vampire was staring ahead, lips silently forming syllables until he stilled and signed in defeat.

Erik meaningfully cleared his throat to attract attention.

"I'm sorry, Erik, but I can't point out the right direction. The scent is gone and common magic has never obeyed me."

"Hold on a second," Erik won't be fooled. "How did you get rid of that demon if it doesn't obey you?"

"Nysrogh? Well, you only need to perform a ritual to open the gate. Besides, the place was the same, so some energy still remained there. Theoretically, I know how to do it, but to channel power you need to be more…well, alive, I guess. It hardly ever works for me that way but it never hurts to try."

He sounded eerily hopeful.

"Fine, we'll do it in the old fashioned way," grumbled Erik.

He let the vampire lead the way. How low is he ready to fall?

It didn't take long to find the right place. The clearing revealed the sleek surface of small pond and farther away stood two figures. Erik squinted at the woman and then smirked in smug satisfaction. Here she is, the succubus. The vampire lightly touched his shoulder and whispered:

"The man is the sorcerer. Never seen him before around here. Erik, I assume, I know what they're doing. It looks like he's going to execrate somebody. Anyhow, I don't understand why the sacrifice," he started absently chewing on his lips making Erik wonder if he does it on purpose to enrage him.

"Let's go and ask them!" attempted Erik to command and was shocked once met with disobedience.

The vampire's grip on his hand was firm and unyielding.

"Too soon, my friend," Erik was already reaching for the dagger in his boot to show the cheeky bastard that he can also bite.

Then, they came.

Vampires, newly made. They were coming from every direction and Erik has already counted two dozen. The grip on his hand weakened.

"Erik, he's calling. I can hear him in my head…I can hear them all, Erik," he abruptly turned around and growled, sharp protruding fangs dangerously close to Erik's neck.

Erik's fist connected with his jaw with the heavy crunch.

Shit! That hurt.

The vampire was sitting on the ground slowly blinking at Erik. His eyes were blue again, sighed Erik. Good.

"Thank you, my friend."

You're ridiculous — wanted to say Erik, but his mouth uttered instead:

"My pleasure!"

Unfortunately, that little scuffle attracted unwanted attention.

The first monster got a clear stab to the heart, the second one he kicked in the stomach and then ducked to the left, catching and twisting the vampire's arm and effectively using him as a shield. Five demons have already become dust but Erik realized that he can't go on like that forever. He needs a new strategy until he runs out of luck. Sudden flash of pain burned his side and Erik stumbled. The momentary distraction was more than enough to lose the advantage. He snarled and viciously punched someone's face, but didn't regain his balance completely. His knees hit the ground and at the same time cruel hands whisked back his head, exposing neck and Erik didn't even had time to comprehend what was going to happen to him when Charles, the vampire, sprang into existence out of nowhere. He snapped the offending arm holding Erik in two, letting Erik free himself from the grip and backhanded the vampire so hard that the mess which used to represent ones face would bear a part in Erik's nightmares from now on.

"Go, go!" ushered him Charles, "The sorcerer has seen us!"

Shut the fuck up, mentally protested Erik, but decided to save some breath.

A wild blast of wind pushed him forward and Charles' hand was the only thing preventing him from smashing head first on the nearest tree.

Later he could hardly remember how he has stumbled to the exit, Charles bending the bars with bare hands and pushing him in the direction of the car. He was positive he was the one with the keys, but for some curious reason he didn't drive.

When they reached the house, the horizon was already slightly pale, foreboding the sunrise and the beginning of the new day.

Erik glanced back before reaching for the front door and noticed that Charles was not coming in. He shrugged and left the other standing there, facing the line of light in the east. Frigging weirdo, tiredly sighed Erik and closed the door.

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	4. Part 3

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This sword had a jagged blade with runes engraved on it — the guard cross-shaped, its grip made of light alloy with symbols painted on it in purple; the pommel shaped like a globe. Twenty inch blade felt incredibly comfortable in his hand, as if he was born to wield it, the steel was definitely singing to him. Erik looked at the vampire out of the corner of his eye. This was bordering on insane — here was the armed hunter and the vampire, alone, in the library of the latter's house, and they were not trying to kill each other.

Gentle lamp light innocently illuminated the impressive collection of unique cold weapon on the nearest wall and really warmed the place — decided Erik, approaching the desk in the corner with the said lamp and the vampire, who, without lifting his nose from the thick book, cheerfully inquired:

"So, how do you find the blade, Erik? I assume this is the original sacred sword, described in the book of Elevation, consecrated in the name of the First Hunter…"

Erik gulped.

"How did you get your hands on the sacred sword? My mother was in the Inner Circle, yet she's never seen it. My god, it was lost after the demon breakthrough half the century ago… You!"

Erik pointed accusing hand still gripping the sword and the vampire carefully lifted his gaze from the paper, noticing the steel within a couple of inches from his head.

"I bet, the wounds from this one won't be healing," pensively said the vampire and reached for the blade barehanded.

What the heck? Erik snatched the blade away when at the same time something heavy abruptly collided with his back.

"How dare you!" hissed Alex from the entrance, "How dare you draw weapon on Charles after everything he's done for you."

"Alex, calm down," Charles moved to stay in front of Erik with hands raised in placating manner.

The second book-projectile was hovering in the air next to Alex's outstretched arm. He had better control of his abilities these days, courtesy of the vampire. And, reluctantly agreed Erik, they needed the witcher on the team, even one as unstable and hardheaded as Alex.

Alex scowled, but didn't lower his arm.

"Raven must be right in the end," huffed he and frowned, "I'll be watching you, Lehnsherr, and god forbid if you hurt someone in this house or if someone will be hurt because of you."

Erik gave him a flat look. Time's come to show the brat his place. Again, he only succeeded in opening his mouth, sharp remark ready on his tongue, when the vampire rather unexpectedly shortened the distance between himself and Alex and grasped his outstretched hand.

"There will be no fighting in my house."

Seriously, now the vampire finally sounded like the creature of the dark. Erik felt the goose bumps on his exposed forearms from the sudden chill in the air.

"Guys! Alex, where are you!?" Angel cried from the corridor and the grave atmosphere magically evaporated, leaving Alex muttering apologies and the vampire attempting that deceptively genuine smile again.

"Come on," the girl burst through the half open door in excitement, the younger and with affinity to dark stripes version of the succubus, if you ask Erik. He briefly wondered if she wore the same outfit to school.

"Did you forget that we're hanging out tonight? The prophesy, the Great Serpent, midnight? Does it ring any bells?" she was too excited for someone who may as well never come back tonight.

"Fancy blade, Erik!" winked Angel and promptly pulled his sleeve, "Come on, you have to see how we stuffed Hank in the backseat of Raven's Land Rover."

"Angel, I suppose you're joking," interrupted the vampire, taking down the straight plain sword from the wall without looking.

"Ha-ha," forcefully smiled Angel, added, "I'll be waiting in the garage!" and was off.

Erik didn't refrain from an eye roll. Poor sod.

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At half past eleven they were right on the spot where due to Hank's meticulous calculations the gate will open at midnight to let the Great Serpent God in. The ancient town hall was built of stone and managed to withstand three hundred years before the seal has thinned enough to provoke the group's suspicions. Strangely enough, it was Sean who pointed out that the chain of dreadful accidents in the building must be connected to the supernatural world. Charles hauled himself in the library for two days to look through all available literature on demonology. That's why they're standing here: Alex and Raven, grim and determined, Sean, looking at his feet, Hank, shifting from one foot to another, and Angel, casually typing text messages on her I-Phone.

Charles, Erik started calling him that in his mind only to avoid mixing him with other blood-thirsty monsters, was explaining the strategy.

What am I doing here — marveled Erik not for the last time. All right, he genuinely likes the certain part of the supernatural world, the part which doesn't include nasty demons, vampires and other visitors from below, like the one they're going to slaughter tonight. Either way, he has found the lair of one of Shaw's associates and planned to effectively search the place in his absence. Why not help the bunch of kids to banish a demon or two in his spare time?

"Any questions?" asked Charles with his most annoying mentoring intonation.

"Jesus, Charles! Of course, there're no questions," Raven quietly muttered to Alex, "as if anything ever has gone according to the plan…"

"Let's hope that it will this time," briskly reacted the vampire, obviously having heard everything, "otherwise, our chances to survive through the next half an hour are slim. Do I have to remind you all, that this is the first time we're going to face not a usual half-breed, but the true creature of the abyss… Judging by the ancient hierograms, it has almost destroyed the world…"

"Joy!" summarized Erik, "Now, everyone, move to your respective positions and wait for the signal?"

"What signal?" Sean went bug-eyed, "Have I missed something?"

"Huge demon breaking through the floor is the signal, you moron," Angel snickered and offered, "Let's take pictures. You know, like — 'before the sleazy worm appeared in our dimension' and '30 minutes after'? What do you think?"

Raven grinned.

"Sounds cool! You're brilliant, Angel! Hank, don't stand there like a statue, come up. Alex, Sean, you're on the left. Sorry, Charles, but you know, you're not really photogenic. Erik!"

This is madness, helplessly thought Erik. The vampire, suddenly stepping close to him, sympathetically shrugged and offered apologetic smile.

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Erik ducked and slashed the thick appendage with all his might. Damn, they were expecting the Serpent, not the fucking gigantic octopus. The breach in the floor was emitting bright blue flames, the energy — deduced Erik and grabbed Alex before he could fall in the gap. The kid coughed a few times before screaming at Erik through deafening rumbling and roaring.

"I need a couple of minutes to concentrate. After I close the gate, deal with the rest of the body!"

Erik nodded and motioned for Alex to get behind him.

Okay, grimly thought Erik chopping the pulsating demonic flesh, now he knows what real hell looks like.

He couldn't really see what was going on around. Electricity was off, air smelled of acid blood and dirt, dust clogged his eyes and nose. Unlike everyone around, except Alex and perhaps Sean, he didn't have the advantage of night vision. Erik hadn't heard Sean and Angel for a while and prayed they were just unconscious, not dead or dragged in the abyss. Hank was viciously cutting approaching tentacles by his side with the axe. Good job, noted Erik.

"Charles! Charles, what are you doing!" the voice belonged to extremely alarmed Raven.

"It's done!" exclaimed Alex from behind and the wave of magic made the whole building shudder.

Erik swore when the ground under his feet crumbled. Alex overdid it again. Shit! He blindly grabbed someone's furred palm — Hank — and let the werewolf drag him up. Together they reached the breach in the nearest wall and Erik looked back. Blue light disappeared completely. They won, thank god… Erik reached to the inner pocket for the phone, which continued to remain unscratched by sheer magic, no less. The light was not enough to illuminate the scene; he was able to discern Hank and the heap on the floor that looked like Sean.

"Okay, this should help with the light," Hank fumbled with something until he opened his hand and Erik, who already knew that Hank was full of surprises, whistled in wonder.

Tiny bundles of flames took off from Hank's palm and the shimmering greenish creatures clothed the hall with light. Fairies! How fascinating!

Without wasting any more time, Erik limped to Sean — he was alive and relatively unscratched, probably hit his head on the debris.

The remnants of the demon were still twitching, some parts already melting away with hissing sound.

Hank came up closer and carefully lifted Sean.

"Take him outside, I'll check on the rest of the group," nodded Erik.

When he approached the others, they've already bundled together in the corner: Angel had her arm fixed by Alex, Raven was tightly hugging Charles and for some reason they were still sitting on the ground.

"Raven, are you alright?" asked Erik and frowned at the scene. If the vampire has done something to her…

"No, I'm not!" she replied, and looked up, scoffing, "Charles has nearly got himself killed! How can I be alright?"

"Charles!" she shook the vampire's shoulders and Erik noticed that he seemed a little dazed, wide eyes expressionless and empty and since when does Erik know how his eyes must look. Presuming he's always like that.

"Raven, what happened?" Charles stirred, but Raven only grabbed him more tightly. He didn't try to extricate himself from the embrace again, instead curiously tilted his head to the side, "You're not hurt, are you? Oh dear, is it someone else?"

"Everyone's fine," she answered, shaken, "This is you I'm worried about, dumbass. One moment I'm dodging that snake and the next I watch you throwing away your sword and leaping right into the gate; thank mother nature for my amazing reflexes or you'd be dead and gone for sure. I doubt, they would be serving tea for you down there," she grew more hysterical with every word, "and then, then you, you just didn't snap out of it!"

"I can't remember… Lord, I…"

The smudges of dirt and blood on his face suddenly became more pronounced and Erik lazily mused if vampires could still go pale, because, apparently this one was a rule breaker in that department.

"Raven, I'm so sorry, darling," Charles pressed a kiss to her forehead and absently patted her head.

"We'll deal with this at home, alright," promised the vampire and helped Raven to her feet.

"Deal, but consider me you Siamese twin from now on. You stay close and never leave my side."

Meanwhile, Erik was busy thinking. Alex and Angel were anxiously going on, fussing around Raven and Charles, and creating constant white noise in the background. Erik was sure that he was the only person diligently observing the vampire all the time, harboring no illusions about his true identity. He thought back to that time the vampire stood on the porch, regardless of rising sun and the recent sword incident in the library. This was the third. Interesting.

"Either you're suicidal," concluded Erik, which would simplify his life a great deal, "or you're cursed."

Kids gaped at him in astonishment, in Raven's case mixed with fear and in Alex's with irritation.

What, he smugly glared at the vampire — is there no prize for guessing.

Charles stared back with intense expression until the look in his eyes grew from contemplative to knowing. Erik scowled — it appears, his message went unnoticed.

"I reckon, I should have known better. Thank you, my friend."

Erik was effectively rendered speechless.

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	5. Part 4

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"Cursed sphere?"

Hank carefully squinted at the object on the table, which to Erik looked like a grey bowling ball minus the holes. So, that was in the package the vampire snatched in the town three days ago.

"What does it do? Except cursing anyone who touches it, which is a given," Raven maintained light conversational tone and at the same time was looking daggers at Charles.

"Raven, don't. I was careless, I admit it. But curses are designed for the living, have never affected me before, so you need to forgive me this little mistake."

"Whatever! How do we get rid of it?"

"Destroy the thing, what else," offered Alex.

"That's not optional," retorted Charles, "I still have to find a way to open it and retrieve what is inside."

"And that will be?"

Erik didn't stay long enough to hear the answer. He quietly closed the door behind himself and decided to follow Sean's example and go to bed. The sphere has evidently nothing to do with him. Of course, the news about the curse was distressing for no particular reason, well, it's not like Erik is just a tiny bit worried, no. He dragged himself in the shower and probably teleported to bed, because his memories of the day ended in the bathroom.

Fortunately, he did catch up on sleep this night and was ready to go to town. The kitchen was empty; the majority of house inhabitants have already left to pretend to study.

Morning coffee in silence was pure bliss.

The doors to the library, the usual vampire's lair were left ajar, Charles nowhere in sight. Maybe decided to meet sunrise again — darkly reflected Erik and then involuntary shuddered. Good mood evaporated in the air and the only thing he distinctly felt right now is the need to smash a face or two. He stepped in the corridor and nearly collided with the main subject of his speculations.

"Erik, good morning. Hope, you rested well."

"Ah, it's you," feigned nonchalance came easy to him, "Still dead?"

"As you can see," grinned the vampire as if Erik had somehow complemented him, "I'm going to collect some books from the library and join Hank in the laboratory. Care to come with me?"

"No, I need to go to town and check on that sorcerer's house."

"But you can't go alone," Charles anxiously stared him in the eyes.

It was pretty unsettling.

Think of his fangs, long sharp fangs aimed at your neck. Damn, why is it so hard?

"Let me come with you, or wait for Raven. No, it's too dangerous. If that demon appears again, someone might get hurt. I will come with you."

"Excuse me, what…"

The vampire didn't let him continue.

"Sure, you can't object to my presence. Strategically, you are at disadvantage if we speak about this hunt. The vampire is the strongest you've met so far, and he teamed up with the demon, the succubus and the sorcerer. You're skilled as a hunter, Erik, but admit that you won't manage it on your own. Logical, isn't it?"

Yes, it was — cruelly agreed his inner voice.

"I don't trust you," said Erik just for the sake of it.

The door bell echoed through corridor and Erik cringed. He should speak to Raven about the thing, it sounded like the moaning of perverted ghost.

"Erik, could you please go and open the door. This must be the acquaintance of mine. Oh dear, I expected her in the evening."

"Fine," grumbled Erik and quickly walked in the hall, then to the door.

He agreed to request because it was reasonable, that's all. The vampire would scare the person shitless if he burns to the ground thanks to sun.

"Hello, is Mr. Xavier home? Name's Moira, I'm his publishing agent. Nice to meet you."

The publishing agent stormed into the house with practiced ease, nearly stomping on his foot in the process. One of those who immediately feel themselves perfectly at home. Damn, women have no subtlety these days.

She confidently hurried down the left corridor to the room which Erik previously has never been in before. No wonder, the manor was huge.

"Charles, how've you been?"

"Wonderful, thank you. Yourself?"

"You know me, always busy," she righted the collar of her white shirt and pointedly looked at Erik.

"This is my friend, Erik. Erik, come join us," Charles ushered him in the armchair, next to the woman.

The room, reflected Erik, was a study, spacious like every room in the house. It was also the bastard child of the modern technology and outdated furniture. The numerous framed portraits on the walls watched his every move with reproach.

"You're shy," stated Moira.

And you're obnoxious, silently parried Erik.

Charles frowned at him.

Now, this is ridiculous. Is he reading my mind?

"Look to your right, Erik. When I first visited the place I caught sight of this picture. Don't you think that our Charles here is the spitting image of his great-great-grandfather? Put him in the period clothes and you won't tell them apart, right?"

Erik couldn't tear his eyes from the painting.

"Yes, absolutely true."

After that Moira paid him no attention — she was quickly talking to Charles, scribbling something in the note book and at the same time scrolling through news feed on her phone — the poster star for multitasking.

When she finally left, and Erik has seen her to the gate where she'd left the car, to make sure that she was out of the premises, the first question he asked upon returning to the study was:

"How old are you really?"

Charles didn't appear surprised.

"Twenty-four," second-guessing Erik's resentment he calmly continued, "I was twenty four when I was returning to my apartment that night," his smile grew rueful, "I should have listened to my fiancée, should have taken the cab, but alas, air has never seemed so wonderful and night was still young. I'll skip the gruesome details you're well aware of. Waking up in the coffin is the experience I'd rather not repeat."

Erik waited.

"Year 1852, if you're interested. Although, my ancestors moved to the continent a decade later. Unfortunately, the last heir to the name was shot about thirty years ago in the bar fight in New York, where he quite effectively wasted impressive amount of family money. Careful scheming and pulling at a few strings later, don't make that face, Erik, I defy violence whenever I can, I finally managed it. In short, that's how I returned myself the name, the title and everything in between. Also, that was necessary to legally adopt Raven."

"I've never heard something so improbable before," confessed Erik, "and, pray, tell me, how many did you kill to accomplish this."

The corners of Charles' lips dropped — he answered, albeit dully.

"None," he hesitated before his next words, "Please, hear me out, Erik. Believe it or not, but I understand what do you feel to the likes of me."

"No, you don't," deadpanned Erik and turned to leave; to think that he let the vampire sweet talk him into listening to all those tales.

"Erik, wait!"

He felt the grip just above his wrist and froze. What the hell? The vampire's touch didn't seem so cold this time, not at all helpfully supplied Erik's mind.

"Raven told me that I've got the room temperature. Fascinating, isn't it? It means the body always adjusts to natural conditions… Erik?"

"I said that one aloud?" slowly got out Erik.

This is not happening.

"Yes," sheepish smile reached the vampire's eyes and made them so very deeply blue.

Erik was raving mad, insane and definitely out of his mind, because he intertwined his fingers with Charles' and pulled him closer. The vampire went with the motion and timidly leaned in to Erik's chest, quiet gasp escaping those red lips, god, he only noticed it right now, the only indication of Charles' surprise.

Brain apparently short-circuited, Erik gave in and also leaned in the awkward embrace. They were arguing just a minute ago — and now he sort of hugs the vampire, because he, well, he wants to check if Charles can really be warm — for the sake of experiment, something to write down in the family tractate in the Vampires section.

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After all, Erik did stay in the house till the evening, and then the mission was delayed for one more day; meanwhile, Hank and Charles' combined efforts splinted the sphere in two parts, using some notorious dark magic, no less — Erik didn't catch a single word, Hank said it was Mesopotamian, the geek.

And, to make it crystal clear, nothing happened in the study. Period.

Only the vampire was disgustingly exuberant all the time — even Hank noticed and eyed Erik with wide eyes, coming to some perverse conclusion in that big head of his.

Erik grimaced, annoyed. He won't be judged by the werewolf.

The crashing sounds and numerous voices from the kitchen indicated that dinner was in full progress.

Erik checked his supply of knives — engraved with silver, especially painful for vampires, werewolves, but, unfortunately, not that harmful when it comes to neutralizing demons; okay, the sword was great but too flashy, the stake will do. He put the amulet on the neck; the pendant was retreated from the cursed sphere and meant to divert offensive magic. Erik made the vampire wear it at first, and then also discreetly tested it on Alex. It worked to his surprise and Charles' delight and was deemed safe by Hank. If he had it that night in the park, everything would've gone differently.

Together, they made it to the town suburbs in rather pleasant, non-irritating silence.

The house was no different from other cottages on the street. For one, it looked homey with plain white fence, wild roses adorning the lawn and an obligatory pair of ugly garden gnomes obediently perched on the porch. Erik parked the car across the street at the safe distance. He switched off engine and was in the process of opening the door then Charles looked up, startled.

"I thought we were going to wait outside and observe the perimeter. Is my phrasing correct, um, I'm not much into this hunting routine… By all means, the house can be a trap, so… Erik? Where are you going?"

"I'll go and find out if it's trap or not. I've already wasted enough time as it is. You may stay in the car," snapped Erik and angrily stormed out.

The key to the front door was hidden under the gnome. God bless all naïve fools.

Well, except one.

Erik glanced back when Charles didn't immediately follow him in.

He was awkwardly standing in the doorway, helplessly staring at Erik — evidently the two of them have almost forgotten about the no-entry-without-permission rule.

"I don't know," Erik knew that he was acting like a jerk, but couldn't help himself, "maybe I should leave you there."

"Erik, this is not funny," Charles sounded positively scandalized.

"It is," Erik grinned at him, "Look, I'll let you in on three conditions. First, you'll never ever…"

Finishing sentences was not on the cards for him tonight. Luckily enough, the dismayed look in Charles' eyes was enough to win him the crucial second when well familiar twin blades flashed before his eyes.

"Charles, come in!"

The force of the punch, courtesy of the vampire, sent demon reeling. Erik's rush forward to do in the red bastard ended with him beating the wind, since the demon had immediately teleported, leaving behind musty and acrid smell.

"Erik!"

Suddenly, Charles all but grabbed him by the lapels, lifted up with impressive ease and nearly rammed Erik's head onto the wall.

"You never do that again, you selfish man! Do you hear me!? You could have died…"

His grip weakened then and Erik slid down the wall completely numb, and, he won't be lying to himself and the sickening lump in his throat only confirmed that, a touch scared.

"Lord, Erik, forgive me…" the vampire crouched on the floor by his side, reaching for Erik, the remaining golden light into his eyes slowly giving way to blue, "It's harder to keep myself in check when I'm upset, I, sorry, so sorry, Erik, you probably don't want to listen to any of this. Let me help you!"

Getting to his feet, Erik firmly ignored the offered hand, and pulled out the dagger not the moment too soon. Charles dashed to the side, giving Erik the perfect chance to bury the blade in demon's chest. Shit, missed the heart. He was dodging the next strike when the sound of gun shots and sharp twinge of pain in his shoulder caught up with his mind.

Someone cried out as if in enormous pain and Erik admitted in passing that the voice sounded suspiciously like Charles'.

"Curious, how two bars of wood placed together effect our kind."

Erik's vision tilted when he tried to pull himself up, using uninjured hand to feel for leverage, but disobedient palm continued slipping on slickness and not cooperating at all.

Shaw is holding the cross — dumbly reflected Erik, uncalled curiosity winning momentary fight with dreadful fear. He is holding the cross to Charles' sprawled form on the floor, the infamous twin blades pinning his outstretched hands to the ground in the sick parody of crucifix. Shaw's trade mark — came frantic thought; exactly how he likes his victims to be displayed — mother, dear god, he's found his mother lying in the pool of blood just like that. Wave of sickness flooded Erik's mouth and he promptly threw up, painful heaving rocking his body.

Erik became aware of demon holding him by the throat, not that strong to break the neck but enough to make his chest spasm from the lack of air.

"Get him here, Azazel," Shaw tsked, impatient, and yanked out one of the blades keeping Charles' hand in place.

Charles half succeeded to stifle the cry. Now Erik was able to see the gunshot wound in the vampire's stomach, unbuttoned coat askew, blue fabric of his shirt dark with blood. Silver bullets, guessed Erik. Shaw had the gun with silver bullets because he knew what kind of company Erik will be in tonight.

"Emma and Janos are busy paying important visit to the new home you've found, we've got plenty of time to catch up. So unlike you, Erik."

Erik didn't know where did the strength to wrestle away from the demon's grip come. In the end, he didn't manage to get far.

There was a blinding burst of pain and then his head hit the ground, rendering Erik's whole world pitch black.

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	6. Part 5

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_Perhaps, I've finally died._

If so, it doesn't have to hurt that much.

Erik grasped for straws of awareness and forcefully pulled himself up, to the realm of bloodshed and despair, where terrifying nightmares came alive, cruelly painting the world in crimson. All his willpower was channeled to compel the simplest, yet so troublesome act of breathing. Hard, unforgiving floor under his throbbing head, numb pain in the injured shoulder, heavy taste of blood in the mouth, indicating that he'd probably bitten his tongue, Shaw, looming over him with wicked pretending smile on thin lips.

"How kind of you to return to us, Erik. Azazel didn't need to hit you so hard, but I have to give you a credit, you've always been exceptionally enduring. Entirely possible, it runs in the family."

Shaw squinted at Erik with the hint of unnerving scrutability, he shifted his posture, allowing Erik the view of the room and the odd burst of terrible pain in his chest had nothing to do with cracked ribs this time. From this angle Erik could not see much, but what he was able to discern in the uneven light nearly made him sick again. Charles… Damn, he was resolved, never expected anyone else to get tangled into this mess, be it another fellow hunter or… someone like Charles, annoying vampire who tries to appear overly friendly and sometimes succeeds, so Erik starts forgetting who he really is, he, no, nobody deserves this. Shaw was carefully watching Erik, when he noticed the direction of his gaze the vampire felt the need to clarify:

"You were out of the picture, and then I realized, I already had someone else there, to kill time with. Those are wonderful knives, Erik. The balance, the cutting edge is perfect."

They took his weapon? Right. Probably, demon has done that while he was unconscious, Shaw would never let himself touch anyone if he was not torturing them. Shaw's sudden icy tone made Erik blood run cold.

"Are you going to stand up when I'm talking to you? I'm tired of waiting."

Where is the demon? Why is Charles so strangely quiet? How much time was he lying there and, more importantly, Erik's heart froze — the mansion. Shaw's lackeys are in the mansion… Think, think quickly, commanded Erik to himself. He needs to get out of here right now, but, Erik gritted his teeth, leaving Charles like that seemed wrong.

"Are you done thinking, Erik, or do you need help?"

Erik will never know what kind of help did Shaw have on his mind and thanks to all deities, will never find out. He was still lying on the ground and that has saved Erik from imminent death. The sound of broken window glass and the whoosh in the air, followed by arrows were the only warnings he was getting. Shaw had to stumble under the force behind two arrows sticking from his chest, his previously human features twisted into monstrous mask with wolfish eyes and ferocious scowl revealing yellow teeth. Erik rolled to his side, careful not to disturb the shoulder more than necessary. He doesn't really care who Shaw is fighting now, as long as that someone will be distracting the monster, giving Erik a tiny chance to escape.

Charles' head was turned sideways from Erik, so he could see only an outstretched bloodied arm, lying limp on the floor and tattered rags of what remained from Charles' clothes, cut in stripes with, goddamn son of the bitch, with Erik's own knives. He crawled up to Charles closer and swore aloud, for a second forgetting that he had to be as discreet and silent as possible. Numerous shallow cuts mutilated his face, deep lacerations covered the chest and upper arms, the burns, shit, — Erik swallowed an acid lump in his throat and carefully snapped the silver chain encircling Charles' neck, the cross hanging from the chain innocently gleaming at him. Enraged, Erik threw the thing to the side without even looking. Curse Shaw and his sick imagination. Alright, that's alright… He won't let his hands tremble. Something crashed outside, and he was reminded that actually he didn't have any time at all.

"Charles," Erik leaned closer to pull the remaining demonic blade out, "I don't know if you can hear me, but I'm pulling the sword on one. One!"

Charles' body's twitched and he groaned which was the first response Erik got so far, this hopefully meaning that he's coming to his senses. He is the goddamn vampire, practically immortal, this is nothing for him, oh crap, I forgot about a silver bullet in his stomach, and there is a fucking pool of blood on the floor — frantic whirling in Erik's usually meticulously organized mind was not helping the matter.

"Erik," he strained to hear feeble whispering, Charles' eyes were not even fully opened, "Are you…"

"Yeah, it's me," hissed Erik, "and I don't know how you were going to continue that sentence, but I strongly advise you to shut up this instant."

"Ah, yes… alright," murmured the vampire — Erik noticed the flickering of golden light in his half-lidded eyes and inwardly cringed. He needs to feed and soon, if he wants to pull through. Later, he'll think about it later.

Thanks to vampires' stamina they've managed the impossible — it went unsaid that Charles had to stand up on his own, well, either that or, or nothing, really, because Erik himself was barely functional. Nevertheless, he still had to bodily drag Charles outside.

The sounds of the fight were now coming from behind the house. Erik lost the track of time; maybe, it's taken him five minutes to get out of the house, maybe, half an hour. He was not sure anymore.

When he got to the car, another disappointment was waiting for him. Burst tires. How is it even possible? Of course, that must be Shaw's doing. Erik fetched the bag from under the drivers' seat. Good, at least something's left.

"Charles, it's not time to chill out," he stammered out with difficulty, obviously the fatigue is taking its toll.

Hearing no response, Erik sighed and positioned Charles' arm around his neck; he stumbled along the road, the need to find the place to rest overwhelming. Cover the tracks, Erik, always cover the tracks — used to repeat his mother and that advice was definitely meant for situations like this one.

Erik managed to start the car, conveniently left by the owner outside the house on the third try. It was too good to be true, concluded Erik, when the fuel has almost immediately run out. He didn't pay attention to the sensors, his fault.

"Erik," Charles, up to this moment slumped on the front seat, woke up, "I need to eat."

"Fuck you," gritted out Erik.

"No, it's not like… like that. If we're anywhere close to the park, there… is this place where you can get blood. If not, then…"

"No, we're not, in fact," Erik was so tired.

"I don't want to be a burden... Erik."

Erik ignored him.

The phone, shit, he has a phone and… Oh no, there was empty space now in his inner pocket. Okay, no phone, no car, no money, and far from his allies, quite possibly dead by now, with the gruesomely injured vampire in tow, Erik is properly screwed.

Afterwards, when Erik leaned to the cold surface of plastic door in the house, he's just broken in; he was ready to laugh at himself. God, this is the craziest night in his life. Unbelievable, completely unbelievable.

Charles, luckily for both of them, was out, and Erik, on the contrary, felt restless. He went through the wardrobe, the owner, judging by the respective size of his clothes, directly descended from giants. Erik used first aid kit from his bag, with wound in his shoulder cleaned and carefully stitched due to some maneuvering, and painkillers chased down with cold water, — he went to check on Charles.

The vampire was in the sitting room. Erik was not able to make it far, so he fetched the blanket from the bedroom and threw it on the floor, it won't do as proper bedding, but Erik has already overtaxed his kindness, if someone had to notice.

"What are you doing?" hissed Erik and kneed next to Charles, taking his hands in a tight grip, which prompted half-scream, half-moan, "Are you still suicidal?"

"Erik, it burns," Charles was tossing his head from side to side, painful spasms rocking his frame, "It's burning from within, and it isn't stopping…," abruptly he started speaking some nonsense, seemingly in one of the weird languages he's familiarized himself with.

Great, now he's delirious.

However, the silver bullet in the guts can make you more than that.

It's a little bit too late to back away, after all Erik has done tonight to save him. Surely, he can put up with more.

"Okay, Charles, listen to me. Charles," he gripped his hand again, mindful of the cut. The vampire focused his eyes, his glowing yellow eyes with almond shaped pupils on Erik's face — bad news, this was very bad news.

"I'll pull the bullet out, there is no other choice — silver will poison your blood further and won't let the wound close. You'll either bleed dry, and how are you still hanging I have no fucking idea, or you'll bleed dry. No options here. Fortunately, you're already dead so, lucky you, I can't care less about hygiene and shit, understood?"

Charles nodded, not coherent anymore.

Erik fetched the bandages and the sharpest knife he could find from the kitchen. Okay, it must be easy, piece of cake, god, who is he trying to fool!

Charles mouthed something what Erik could not hear, due to the anxious pounding in his own ears.

"You bite on this," Erik didn't find anything better than his own leather belt; he briefly considered binding the vampire's arms, but, indeed, there was no time for that.

"This is gonna hurt," unnecessarily offered Erik.

True to his word, it did.

Erik has already regretted one hundred times that he didn't fix Charles in place. It would have been so easier. Damn, only imagine, he's trying so hard for someone, who drives him crazy, who belongs to the most vile, disgusting creatures of this realm, who, what the fuck, has just kneed him in the stomach.

His fingers felt for piece of metal, not too deep, good, and Erik found himself muttering:

"It's almost over, I've got it. It's alright, you're fine…"

Charles arched on the floor one more time, nearly throwing Erik off and stilled, more or less, residual tremors notwithstanding. Erik felt as if somebody up there has cut his ropes: he slumped forward, boneless with exhaustion, physical and mental, the likes of which he hadn't suffered in years.

The vampire's eyes were wide open, barely inches from his own, Erik's position leaving him in the closest proximity imaginable, Erik's heavy breathing the only sound in the room.

"Well," tiredly uttered Erik, "I knew that it was bound to end this way. Come on, don't make me wait…"

"What? Erik, what are you…"

"It's evident," Erik meaningfully lifted an eyebrow, the only gesture he was capable of right now, "You're going to bite me, end of story. Don't lie that you don't want to."

Erik felt smug satisfaction after the look in the vampire's eyes has shifted.

"Aha, you do! I knew it."

"Erik," Charles' voice weakened considerably, "you don't know… what you're talking about is unacceptable…"

Erik's T-shirt was wet with blood that wasn't his.

"You're dying, dumbass," simply said Erik, reminder of Raven's words from before fresh on his mind. And, after everything Shaw's done, he couldn't but add to himself — and this is partly my fault.

In the last moment, Erik decided that neck would be a little too much. He bared the left wrist, which he knew was scraped, so the stubborn idiot would be tempted more, and lifted the hand to the others' lips. Charles was slipping away — Erik could swear that he's seen how the last flashes of familiar intelligence gave in to hunger, and closed his eyes, suddenly apprehensive.

It hurt at first but after initial stinging came warmth. It slowly crept up his wrist, then his forearm, and even further until all that Erik could feel was liquid fire beneath his skin. Someone moaned, and Erik was not really sure who.

Too soon, the sensation evaporated and Erik was left breathless and dazed, panting and marveling what has just happened. After all, he was really tired and maybe warm lips on his wrist which later moved to his mouth were something out of the dream land. In the dream he eagerly responded and smiled in the imaginary kiss, content and in the end, at peace.

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	7. Part 6

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"What the fuck?"

Damn, Erik's sleep-induced brain didn't intend to catch on real world any time soon and maybe someone will care to tell him what the hell is going on.

"Logan…"

Charles' mumble sounded somewhere awfully close and, holy shit, Erik gulped, petrified, the gravity of situation hammering him all at once. Charles turned his head to the side, exposing long pale neck; the smaller cuts have been healed, absently noted Erik.

"Logan?!" now Charles has sounded exactly like Erik has felt, all poor deer caught in the highlights silently nodding along.

"Err, nice to see you, I guess," tried Charles and furiously whispered, "Erik, my friend, can you roll over or move aside a little, because Logan looks like he's going to murder someone…"

That's a darn good suggestion.

So, Erik consciously turned around to look at the infamous hunter and cruelly showed any remaining embarrassment away. Time to deal with things like spooning the vampire in the sleep, okay, technically sleeping on top of said vampire, will come later.

"…that's what I remember, anyway," caught he Charles' voice, "Basically, Erik has saved me so many times yesterday…"

"He doesn't look like a savior to me," Logan gave Erik a look-over and lit the cigar.

What a jerk! Erik, having wisely bitten his tongue, dignified him with no response, a touch stunned, because he honestly didn't expect Charles to stand up for him with something akin to devotion… No, no, Erik's hit his head too hard yesterday, hence the awkward hearing.

Good news — everyone in the mansion was fine, some scratches and bruises — nothing serious, the kids were tougher than they might appear. More than that, Logan was the one who came to their aid last night and distracted Shaw in time to let them escape. It means, the man with the crossbow is this burly, chunky… someone. Fucking Van Helsing, he could have shot Erik yesterday as well. And the crossbow? Ha, crossbow is for women.

Bad news — Shaw had disappeared, Logan said that he followed him and then he just evaporated. Called his demon cab, decided Erik, what else. Anyway, this Logan started looking for Erik and Charles, but Erik did a good job, like always, so he's managed to track them only now.

Alright, for now, that will do, but, Charles looked at him with naked concern in blue eyes and Erik grimly nodded in response. Some grand scheme was in motion and they had no fucking idea as yet.

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.

Three days of prescribed bed rest he spent in the library instead, dusty tomes and manuscripts forming a huge pile on his desk. Charles has joined him tonight on day four, somehow escaping Raven's excessive hmm, better put obsessive, cuddling and mild threats to tie him to bed in case he keeps 'being a stubborn dumbass'. The last one has made Erik flinch. As far as silent agreement went, they didn't tell anyone in the mansion what has happened that night, aside from the obvious — they fought Shaw and his demon; got injured; Erik, who immediately became the hero figure in everyone's eyes, all talk inspired by exuberant tales, — read Charles — got them out alive.

Erik was woken up by the crashing sound. He shut the book which was serving as the poor pillow regardless, and followed the rustling to the far corner, the most secured section, which he couldn't use even if he wanted to, all runes and signs resembling protolanguage. And who could, let's face the truth…

Charles was hunched on himself, hands protectively hugging his midsection, sitting on the floor, surrounded by the pile of books and looking more bewildered than actually hurt.

"May I call your attention to the fact that I'm not even asking what has happened," scoffed Erik, picking up one of the most tattered grimoires.

Charles softly chuckled and gestured at the books.

"I had a hunch, my friend," he carefully stood up, clutching the shelves for support, "My memory contains everything I've experienced, read, seen and so on. Retrieving the exact piece of information, though, can prove quite a tricky task. What if we were moving in the wrong direction from the beginning; I started questioning myself, but to no avail and then I remembered the legend..."

Erik collected all the books and strolled to the sofa, which he occupied since the very first day of his self-induced investigation. The desk was already a mess, so he put down his burden right there. Charles perched himself among the books and Erik returned to the memoirs of Magnus, who was a very formidable hunter in his time, specialized in vampires, and was famous for his one hundred and one way to kill a vampire, most of which were too meager and phantasmagoric for real life situations if you ask Erik. Nevertheless, the book was a success in estimated circles. Erik shook his head in disbelief. How do you trick a vampire into drinking holy water, for instance? Only by force and that would be sick if you already caught one and can just stab the creature. He looked up at Charles, who, it seemed, was simultaneously reading three different books positioned on his lap, and was stricken with a thought. Shaw also could have done that, could have made Charles experience the most excruciating pain and, Erik froze up, apprehension sucker-punching him in the gut — he cares, Erik genuinely cares about the well-being of the vampire.

"Erik," called Charles from the sofa, oblivious to inner turmoil Erik was going through, "I've found something."

Erik stood, and slowly approached him; the shock of his life, meanwhile, noticed Erik's expression and gasped:

"Erik, you're pale as death!"

"Look who's talking," automatically replied Erik with no real malice.

"Is your shoulder troubling you?"

No, you're troubling me. In fact, you've been doing it since the moment I first set eyes on you. _Man_, sardonically drawled his inner voice, _you're in deep trouble, to put it extra politely._

"You'd better sit down! Erik, can you hear me? Here," glass clinked nearby and the rummer was forced into his unresisting fingers, "whiskey, no ice, sorry. Uhm, I was told that this is a good brand. Either way, it should help."

Erik took the sup of the offered drink and in consequence of his shocked state didn't wince when whiskey burned its way to his stomach. He sat on the sofa, refusing to meet Charles' eyes, and asked in a gruff voice:

"So, where's that legend you've been searching for?"

"You sure, you feel fine? I don't want to impose, but…"

For god's sake.

"Oh, just awesome," got out Erik in the painstaking effort to remain civil, except for the fact that, presumably, only presumably, mind that,

_I may like you_.

"Okay," Charles gently caressed the frontispiece, illustrations so old that Erik could hardly discern the outlines of the horned silhouette on the tawny surface.

"What's wrong with the paper?" griped Erik — anything to chase away dreadful realization.

"It's written on skin," calmly clarified Charles, "and you don't want to know further details, I dare assume."

"You're damn right."

"Well, this is the tale of the demon and the brave warrior."

"Those are all clichéd. They've been fighting for god knows how long, both got injured and at last the demon was defeated, but the warrior never made it back, and that's the only part which is realistic, and died from terrible wounds and got inheavened. Happy ending for all parties."

"You've grasped the main concept, my friend," Charles smiled, but continued in a humourless tone, "Despite, this time the demon's spirit was so strong that it could not be banished from the realm, demon's breath poisoned anyone who breathed in the stifling miasma, an awful metaphor, by the way. The demon's blood, though I'm not sure I interpret this one correctly, maybe, ah, never mind, unfortunately got mixed with the warrior's and the most powerful mages didn't manage to save the brave warrior. The mages died, sealing the demon's spirit in the above realm and the demon's body was split into seven pieces and hidden in the most ungodly hide below," Charles stuttered all of the sudden, "which is here, Erik, this is Westchester, the hellhole."

"And?" Erik didn't want to seem stupid, but Charles operated brain the size of this library. He could admit this, yes.

"And Shaw has found them, not all," Charles closed the book and grabbed another in haste, Erik noticed how his fingers were trembling, when he anxiously turned page after page, "those are not actual body parts, you realize, just objects which contain magical power. Aha, found it! The one assembling them all will prove immune to sacred symbols, fire, steel, magic, gain the ability to become invisible, foresee enemy's intentions and bring to heel the vassals of evil…"

Erik saw where this was leading.

"The one who brings them together will call the spirit of the ancient demon, it will descend in the vessel and wipe off the world," shit, it finally sank home and Erik fell silent.

"We may," Charles chewed on his lower lip, "have one here as well."

Erik followed the direction of his gaze and it struck him. The pendant. He touched warm metal through the fabric of his shit. Resilient to magic.

"I intended to give you protection," Charles switched to relentless mode without any warning.

Once again, Erik found himself captivated by his abrupt sharp disposition.

"Never knew that it'll work out like that, Erik."

"Forget it," Erik was carefully choosing next words, "We have one of… relics, but how many does he have?"

"At least two," Charles winced when he tried to stand up and Erik wound his arm round his waist without thinking.

"Thank you, my friend," Charles leaned against him, movement provoking the burst of pleasant warmth in Erik's stomach.

"The park," guessed Erik, "they've called the vampires in the park, which means number one is in his clutches. And number two is the ability to touch the cross and remain unharmed."

Charles nodded, thoughtful.

"Besides," he turned to look Erik in the eyes, "I can't but mention it, Erik, although it hurts me to do so. Someone might have told Shaw about us coming together, otherwise why bother with silver bullets and… other… you know."

Erik has been thinking about it for a while, that's why he was in the library alone, Charles notwithstanding. He refused Hank and Raven's attempts to help him for a reason. Again, no one can be trusted aside from the vampire. The best celestial joke ever.

.

.

.

"What are you doing here, Lehnsherr?"

He knows my name, the jerk. Have probably vetted me from the very day I arrived.

"I want to talk."

Logan blew the cigar smoke right into his face.

Calm. Be calm and keep talking.

"Shaw is going to destroy the world," made Erik the first try.

Logan started laughing like a madman, which nearly threw Erik of balance.

"Why don't you say — I want to kill him for what he did to my mother, the sick bastard?" barked out Logan through laughter.

It put Erik's teeth on edge.

"How dare you," steel claws pressed to his throat in an instant, cutting off angry words.

"No, how dare you come here and demand something," claws pressed enough to draw blood, but Erik didn't back an inch, "The world? Fuck the world! Every hunter, if he's not a complete retard of course, which is a rare nowadays, knows what is worth fighting for. And I'll tell you the secret, fucker boy, — this is neither the world nor petty personal revenge."

"He's tortured Charles," breathed out Erik and Logan's eyes dangerously narrowed at that, "and he hates unfinished business, I know for sure. Basically, there's a traitor, but we still don't know who and…"

"Have you just said 'we'," smirked Logan and retracted the claws. The hidden mechanism? Erik wouldn't have noticed before it became too late.

"Yes," Erik was steadily holding his gaze.

"He called you a hero, huh?"

"I'm not," stuttered Erik, embarrassed all of the sudden.

"No, nobody is," mildly said Logan. "What have you brought?"

"Whiskey," Erik nodded to the bag at his feet.

"Cigars?"

"Yes."

"Charles told you to do this, right?" now he was laughing, but it was a different kind of laugh, Erik could tell.

"Why ask if you already know," seethed Erik. He was tired of playing good and humble.

"You're as dry as Sunday speech, but also amusing as hell," passed Logan a verdict.

"Come in, don't be shy," with this he disappeared in the depths of his poorly lit apartment.

Erik followed him to the kitchen, where the single glass was lonely standing on the table.

"This is for you," explained Logan and slugged down an impressive gulp straight from the bottle, "Help yourself, Lehnsherr. It's barely noon and I have an appointment at four. Lots of time on your hands. What do you want to start with?"

Right.

Here goes nothing.

"Tell me everything you know about vampires," he gulped, "about Charles."


	8. Part 7

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.

"You've told Hank," flatly repeated Erik, once they got out of the car.

"Hank is intelligent. He won't do such an utterly stupid thing as cooperating with the group of demons who intend to destroy the world," Charles attempted to hide his eye-roll by burying nose in the map.

"Um, I really don't understand…" sheepishly tried Hank.

"Shut up," snapped Erik and turned to Charles, "Correct me if I'm wrong. You don't want the girl you call your sister to be aware of our plan, yet, you've told the brainiac, who is also a werewolf, who also hates his natural form and will do anything to get rid of it, whom you've known for about one and a half year, only because he's smart?"

Hank sniffled behind his back.

"Hank, stop it. I'm telling the truth and you know it. Get hold of yourself, for god's sake. One more thing," Erik turned around and measured Hank with his meanest look, he's been training in front of the mirror for ages to master it to perfection, "If you betray us, I'll skin you alive. You'd make an excellent fur carpet next to the fireplace in my study."

"Erik, you don't even own a house," absently mentioned the vampire and patted Hank on the arm, where he could reach, "Don't worry, Hank. Erik is joking, he's the kindest person I know."

"You two…" Hank made helpless gesture, defeated, "All I'm trying to say for an hour is that I'd never betray you, Charles."

"I'm aware," hummed Charles, his eyes glinted with soft amusement.

Erik scowled. This is not a good cop bad cop tactic, there's too much at stake for mere games.

Since his visit to Logan and the grand hangover next morning, Erik, eerily enough, felt more cleansed than ever. He desperately needed that. An outlet. The morning after, he took the bottle of wine from the fridge — will do to nurse his headache, hesitated for a moment and then reached for one of Charles' _drinks_, stuffed in the lower section. Before knocking on the door of Charles' bedroom, he nearly lost all courage and run away.

Go and talk to him, grumbled Logan. He's a vampire and so what? It only means that he'll forever be a twenty-four year old kind-hearted, noble, idealistic brat, constantly studying as if he's never left the university and trying to change the world. Being turned into vampires, mused Logan, striped people of their socially adapted persona, all deeply hidden inclinations surfaced at once, aggression the top one. The darkest corners of human heart became revealed and the temptation to blend with demonic essence stood above everything. Charles, Logan shrugged, is a phenomenon in himself. He is now like he used to be when he was alive, because he's a naturally good person — no masks, no pretence. He should have become a saint, a scholar, a mighty sorcerer, but fate is a cruel bitch and who knows it better than you, Lehnsherr.

For now, decided Erik, blinded by the force of Charles' brilliant smile when he opened the door, it'll suffice, this truce, a tentative beginning of something heart-pounding and new, but his other desires awakened by Charles have to wait. Recently, he harbored the hope — the kiss in the dream, that night when he fell asleep together with Charles — what if it was real, after all. To find it out he must ask the other participant. He'd better face demon barehanded than ask Charles that.

Tonight they were searching for one of the remaining relics in the sewers. Yeah, Erik was rather hoping for a quiet, peaceful walk to the cemetery in the serene moonlight, but Charles has dug out a map which indicated the place where once stood the occult temple, destroyed by the fire. The foundations were the only thing left. Presumably, the sewers, which have been under reconstruction at that time, were the right place to look for ruins.

Charles muttered something incomprehensible, small movements of his full, tantalizing lips tempted Erik to imagine indecent things he'd like to do to those lips. Erik shook his head to make the disturbing visions go away and Hank emphatically cleared his throat next to him. Shit, he has been right here all the time.

The map migrated to Erik and Charles came up to the round concrete cover in the ground, swept the surface clean with his sleeve as he effortlessly showed the heavy lid aside, the display of power a convincing proof that his wounds have healed. Dry leaves rusted under Erik's feet, reminding him that it was almost the end of October, Raven and the others were shopping in the town for Halloween decorations, maybe have gone to the movies — so thought Charles, and maybe to the bar, darkly mused Erik —there was one underground place where they didn't ask for driving license, especially if you have supernatural creature written on your forehead in big shiny letters.

Sewers smelled not quite as terribly as he was expecting.

Hank was watching the exit and monitoring their route from the car. Erik marveled at technological equipment they had on their hands — spending Charles' enormous fortune like water — no wonder Erik was not completely on board with the fact.

This time he's taken the sword, the familiar weight of the blade soothing his nerves.

Charles was three steps ahead, flawlessly navigating through tunnels and speaking to Hunk in a hushed voice.

"That's the area where the signal weakens," he diligently informed Erik over his shoulder, "soon, it'll disappear and we're on our own. Hank agreed, that this phenomenon may be prompted by electromagnetic field deflection, which is sometimes caused by potent magic emanations…"

Erik listened, mesmerized, the general meaning waving him goodbye, but leaving behind smooth, rich texture of Charles' voice, literal music to Erik's ears.

"This place, the stones here used to form the foundation of the temple. Erik, look," the wall of the tunnel was radiating pale blue light, coming from disgustingly looking, pulsating clod on the wall, one look at which made Erik's stomach contract in horrible spasm.

Charles touched it before Erik could stop him.

"Slime," unnecessarily observed he.

"Do you touch everything you lay your eyes on?" the desire to drag Charles away from possible danger, strangle him for ignoring the basic precautions and hold him close were tearing Erik apart.

"No, of course not," Charles frowned in curiosity at the shimmering substance covering his fingers.

"The cursed sphere," dryly reminded Erik and in response received sourness written all over his face, "How are you so old and still so carefree!"

"Erik, the remark about my age was completely uncalled for," sulked Charles.

The urge to apologize and wipe the hurt expression from Charles' face was eating at Erik. Damn, what's wrong with him, there are more important issues to deal with. Where is the relic? The only thing which was different about this tunnel was ugly something on the wall. The demonic sporule? Alien fetus? Erik felt inclination to impale the thing on his sword, whatever it was. Better safe than sorry.

"Erik, you watch too much modern television," gently interrupted his frantic thoughts Charles.

"How did you…" Erik could swear on the memory of his mother, that he didn't utter a single word.

Your hair is a disaster, thought Erik with intent.

Charles immediately combed his clean hand through thick strands, his composure shattering into pieces.

It really worked.

Erik stared — completely at a loss.

"Have you just read my mind?" started Erik, "I was not speaking aloud, mind that."

Charles visibly gulped and looked away.

"We've found the relic," he took a step to the shimmering clod, which now grew dimmer, "To be more precise, what is left of it, look here, it leaks through the crack in the wall, the substance was probably kept in the vessel of the sort. Erik, can I borrow your flask, please?"

Erik carefully emptied the flask, making sure that no single drop of holy water was left.

Charles started filling it with sticky substance using his penlight as spatula and animatedly talking in the process:

"That's unusual! I honestly admit, I've been expected something akin to vambrace or helmet, but to think that relic can be preserved through centuries in this state. On the other hand, the pendant is obviously hand-made… Erik, do you have any ideas? Does one drink it or you just rub it on the skin? I doubt that it works like that though; I can't hear you since I wiped my hand clean. For the record, your mind is pretty structuralized, not that I can compare… Speaking of which…"

Erik froze in trepidation. Had Charles heard any _other_ thoughts?

"What are we going to do with this mind-reading stuff? Do we hide it? Destroy it?" Charles tucked the flack in his pocket and then cracked a big, beautiful smile, "We may use it as well, as a slimy trump card, what do you say?"

Next moment they simultaneously turned to the direction they have come from as Erik swiftly unleashed the sword, taking step closer to flank Charles, should the need arise.

Light wind curled on the surface of water, tiny whirl forming exactly where Erik was standing a second ago.

"Six," informed him Charles, "Five vampires and one human. That sorcerer, Erik!"

The implications of his appearance were horrible, if only…

"Has he noticed us yet?"

"Not sure," Charles nodded at the tiny vortex, "those are the beacons. Generally weak magic meant to alert the wielder to hostile presence. And yet the element of air won't help him much in the realm of earth and water."

Erik has heard doubt in his carefully measured voice and that, more than anything else helped him to make up his mind. He won't run — not now, not ever.

All his life he was seeking vengeance; he does now, but, Erik grimly tightened his grip on the sword, maybe Logan, the asshole, was kind of right, maybe every hunter needs another, more solid reason to fight.

"I can divert their attention from you," Charles touched his shoulder, "Take the flask and go."

Trust Charles to interrupt his inner encouragement speech by his ridiculous schemes.

"You're impossible," muttered Erik, unable to find it in his heart to scold Charles for presuming that Erik will leave him alone.

"We are together in this. Besides, I have the magic resilient relic, the sacred sword and the elderly vampire by my side," smirked Erik, satisfied with Charles' indignant protest, and added, with steel determination which surprised him as well, "Retreat is not an option. Not for a hunter and certainly not for me."

Charles took it as his final word as he stuffed the flask back into his pocket, his movements once again sharp and efficient.

"Flashlights have to go, I'll guide you from now on," his eyes glinted with familiar yellow light one last time before Erik was wrapped in the blackness from head to toe.

"Don't worry, Erik, darkness is my faithful ally. Take my hand."

His hand met Charles' without hesitation.

They passed the turn which, by Erik's observations had to lead to exit, but he didn't question Charles. Soon he heard them too, just around the corner. Nearby.

Erik tugged the vampire closer when the sudden realization struck him, he reached for the dagger he always kept on his person and firmly clasped Charles' fingers round the hilt. Charles didn't take any weapon tonight; Erik is going to have a word with him later. He imagined Charles' grateful smile and couldn't help squeezing him tighter, his disobedient arms going around Charles' shoulders as his cheek rested on the soft strands of hair.

The splash of water made Erik drop his hands as Charles slipped away and the ferocious roar of the first dying vampire set everything in motion.

No need to be discreet any longer — Erik immediately rushed into the battle. The sorcerer so very handy created some sort of light-ball for illumination. He slashed through the body next to him with perfect aim, vampire evaporating in the cloud of dust and noticed Charles from the corner of his eye doing the same. Two to go. And the sorcerer. Erik dodged the attack and quickly looked back in time to see the bastard turning his gaze to Charles — evidently deemed him more dangerous between the two of them. Erik blindly punched the attacking vampire in the face, forgetting about his sword, about everything, as he dashed to the Charles' side.

The wave of pure energy came to nothing around them, Charles' grip on his forearm relaxed and Erik smiled in grim satisfaction. He turned to face the enemy, regretful to let go of Charles, but he needed to finish it quickly. The magical attack eliminated the remaining vampire and the three of them stood in the tunnel in oppressive silence, the rings in the water the only sign of what had happened.

Never before had he the chance to closely examine man's pale features, dark longish hair and shrewd eyes. He was human and he cooperated with Shaw. There must be coercion involved, and if so, Erik could offer…

The words which have fallen from the man's lips meant nothing to Erik, but Charles gasped and forcefully tugged his arm, dashing back in the tunnel they came from.

"Erik, the relic won't help. He's going to tear down the walls!"

Shit, the bastard's decided to bury them alive.

Powerful rumble blanketed all his thoughts.

.

.

.

"There's no place to be but the nice, quiet cemetery, after you've nearly died under the debris," Erik wiped the sweat and dust from his forehead and sat on the ground next to Charles, who smiled like a loon, happy and addictive, a beautiful vision adorned with autumn foliage, pale colours twisted by the moonlight.

"That was close," said Charles, looking up at Erik from there he was stretched on the withered grass, teasing spark in his gaze, "Is this infamous hunter's luck?"

"Shut up," Erik closed his eyes, taking in the distinctive smell of fading leaves and enjoying the light cold breeze on his face. They were lucky that Charles has memorized the route and possible ways of retreat, they were lucky that the exit was so close and they nearly died when… Stop it. Does it matter if this is finally over?

He had spread himself too thin recently: constantly on the move, fighting, struggling…

The inner voice is eerily silent, not that Erik listens to its nonsense anyway.

It just happened that their lips met halfway. Erik, absolutely sure that he was the one to lean down for a kiss, and Charles, later pointing out that he himself reached for Erik.

It was cold at first, cold and simple press of lips, lacking effort, but something inside Erik growled in triumph and the kiss became openmouthed, all passion poured in the deliberate caress.

"That was not a dream," whispered Charles, when Erik slowly drew back to catch a breath, "Erik, do you remember? I thought, oh my…"

"Likewise," Erik put his hand on Charles' chest and gently pushed him back onto the leaves, effectively cutting off any further needless words with his mouth.

.

.

.


	9. Part 8

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Erik saw Charles' profile through the half open doors as he approached the library, determined to discuss their next step in the anti-Shaw operation. But just the sight of Charles, simply standing there with the sleeves of his grey sweater rolled up, his head tilted slightly to the side, rebellious strands of chestnut hair in adorable mess — and now Erik knew how soft and pleasant it was to the touch — just one glance and the memories of the previous night came rushing back: kissing, which turned into passionate devouring, his eager hands threading through Charles' hair, the delighted gasps Charles was making when Erik was pressing his lips along his jaw line, his delicious neck, marvelling at the taste of him, so human, so addictive and sweet. Gods, that was incredible and they've been simply making out and… Erik was doomed.

"Two guys from my science class have seen her," Raven made a vague motion in the air, comfortably sitting cross-legged on the sofa, "They're total nerds, I guess, they won't recognize their own reflections in the mirror without those enormous glasses, but they are also super smart, not prone to making up some weird… Erik! Just the one hunter I need!"

Charles greeted him with a smile, which was a common occurrence in itself, despite this time his bright eyes lit up with tender affection and he fidgeted with the collar of his sweater a bit — oh, smugly thought Erik, the marks are still there.

_Who is the vampire in this relationship_ — mockingly drawled inner voice catching Erik off guard.

_Sod off_, scolded Erik and Charles' smile dimmed, guarded expression has flashed in the blue gaze and reminded Erik of that time he flinched when he first touched Charles' hand, inadvertent reaction giving way to awkward unease.

Shit, Erik tried to school his features into neutral mask that instant, making mental note to watch himself from now on or, which will work out even better — to reassure Charles that…

"Erik, Jesus, what's up with your face? Are you going to be sick?" curiously inquired Raven and dutifully finished, "If you've eaten any pancakes don't blame me. Sean has been on cooking duty this week!"

"Lehnsherr, this is a private conversation," said Alex from an armchair he was perched on, looking like he owned the place.

Erik shamefully admitted that he was too busy staring at Charles to notice any moody teenagers lurking in the shadows. Raven questioningly looked at Charles, when he didn't hasten to reprimand Alex, and then looked at Erik, and then frowned.

"Look, Charles, what's going on around here these last two weeks?" Alex exchanged brief nods with Raven and went on, "If for some reason you can't tell us, we understand. No, Raven, we do," he motioned to Raven who, from the looks of it, was ready to voice her disagreement, "but if we can be useful, just say something."

The kid sounds like a man, Erik will give him that.

"What has happened to the team?" bluntly asked Raven, "Why are we suddenly banned from hunting? This is our home, I happen to like this pitiable town, I even decided that I'll probably miss the hell which is called school. As I see it, we want and moreover we can protect it all… We've dealt with that white witch and her running dog if you forgot!"

"Fine," Erik measured her with a look, "You want to go on patrolling while Shaw is out there. Do. But don't blame anyone when we find your bloodless corpse ditched in the sewers."

"Wait a minute! You've been outside with Charles yesterday! You think I'm stupid, you think I won't notice how you two are conspiring…"

"Raven, please," mildly said Charles, "I'll talk to you later. Alex, I think the phenomenon you've described is the vengeful spirit, check the anthology of undead on my desk. Now, if you excuse me."

He turned on his heels and quickly walked through the door, unreadable expression on his face.

"Lehnsherr," hissed Alex jumping to his feet, "I've warned you!"

"Hey, Erik," Raven's form shimmered as she gave in to the emotions in her voice, "What's up between you and my brother?" the way she said _my brother_ made Erik cringe, "And besides, you own us an explanation."

"The hell I do," smirked Erik, "Charles is officially in charge of you; this is his decision and if you think you can fool him or me and disobey, you'll regret it, this I can gladly promise."

.

.

This is only afternoon and his day, which started so good, turned into a nightmare.

Scowling, he strolled to Charles' bedroom door and has readied himself to knock as long as it will take Charles to let him in. Fortunately, he was granted permission in two seconds after his hand touched the wooden surface of the door.

"Charles," cautiously called out Erik when the darkness of the room swallowed him whole.

"Ah, dreadfully sorry, Erik. One moment, please."

Bedside lamp has flickered to life and Erik saw Charles, his figure partly bathed in the shadows and partly illuminated with warm light, not bright enough to let Erik discern his expression. He strolled to Charles and took his hand, the motion prompting the vampire to turn and face him, the set of his stiff shoulders screaming at Erik to leave him alone. So he shall, Erik braced himself for whatever the outcome of this conversation will be, but for now they'll talk.

"Erik, why are you doing this?" Charles' face was uncharacteristically blank, he swallowed as if it physically hurt him to talk to Erik, "I'm sorry, I made the assumptions after yesterday night. I assure you, it won't happen again, I…"

You're an idiot wanted to say Erik, but he was not giving in to momentary impulses. He felt certain, that he absolutely can't fuck this up.

"Do you imply, that I didn't really want to kiss you, but, perhaps, these two times were something of accidental nature, total eclipse of the mind or what?" Charles averted his eyes to the side, "You do. Maybe, you even developed a theory why did it happen, let me guess — adrenalin rush, desperate need for emotional and physical release and shit. Aha," he carefully lifted Charles' chin up, thumb caressing the corner of the lush mouth almost unthinkingly, "so I've thought… And maybe, this is just a crazy assumption of mine, remember that, you've decided that I enjoyed it not because I enjoyed doing it with you, but because I wanted to mess with you and aside from this I truly find you…"

"Revolting," supplied Charles and finally met his eyes, "you've told me quite a few times yourself from the very start," Erik's face has heat up when he remembered how many times he actually behaved like an asshole, "so this is completely my fault for imagining that things between the hunter and someone like me can ever be different."

"Please, let me kiss you now," it seemed that Charles' harsh words have rendered Erik with no options, but pitiful begging.

Charles' eyes were abruptly blazing with ferocious fire as he tilted his head to the side and asked, bitter and somewhat resigned.

"Even now?" he subtly shook his head and his face transformed — yellow inhuman eyes, long sharp teeth bared in a snarl, this close the previously white, unblemished skin looked withered and wasted and Erik swallowed hard as something constricted painfully in his chest, leaving him stunned and speechless.

Erik was not sure what the logistics of kissing a snarling vampire was, but he acted on a whim. Sink or swim is his favourite motto, mused Erik, when he carefully licked at the corner of Charles' mouth and then traced sharp fangs with his tongue; curiosity has made him bold, so he pushed his tongue into waiting mouth, prompting Charles to gasp and suddenly go limp in his arms. His knees buckled and he had to sit on the bed with Charles, a dead weight in his arms, awkwardly perched on his lap.

"Charles, are you alright?" gingerly tried he, not sure what to do anymore after his carefully constructed speech went to pieces.

Charles nestled his head on Erik's shoulder, rebellious hair tickling the neck in the process as his other hand went to circle Erik's waist.

"From here, I can enjoy listening to your heartbeat, so strong and steady, and steal a bit of warmth if you don't terribly mind. You're an exceptional hunter, Erik, and a great man," Erik's breath hitched when Charles stifled, "Hm, that's fascinating… And I've previously thought, I couldn't cry anymore. You have literally turned my world upside-down, my friend," Erik's hand rose as if on its own volition, he cupped Charles' head, tilting it up until his lips pressed to the vampires' forehead, not a kiss this time, but a promise of many good things to come.

"I do love you, Erik," smiled Charles, dark-blue eyes bright with still unshed tears as he tilted his head up more, sealing the words with a kiss.

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After a while, they were lying on the plush, brown duvet, covering Charles' bed, face to face, trading slow, languid kisses. Erik's quiet excitement soon quickly transformed into arousal, which was difficult to hide with Charles plastered so close, that he could distinctly feel the outlines of his body, separated only by the clothes they were both wearing right now. The clothes that suddenly became too hot and stifling for Erik. He sadly reflected that he didn't want to ruin the mood, but at this stage he couldn't will it to go away.

"Erik?" Charles' hand tentatively travelled from his waist to his stomach, Erik exhaled in anticipation and then has caught a stray thought that made him stop Charles' hand in its seductive tracks.

"What about you?" he stared into Charles' eyes trying to decipher the longing he saw there correctly. It's possible that… Okay, he'd better ask to avoid further awkwardness, "Charles, may I ask you something?" Charles has bitten on the lower lip, clearly uncomfortable, so Erik kissed him one more time and levelly asked, "Have you ever been with a man?"

"Once," he felt the need to add, "Not quite a love-making I imagined. We've been so young and stupid at the time…"

Love-making, yeah, Erik must keep that in mind. Originally, Charles is from a different era and though Erik forgets this from time to time, he needs to tread the emotional field with utmost care.

"And after you've been turned…" he knew the answer before he got one.

"No, I, I felt it would be hypocritical of me to crave for things living beings so desperately desire," he smiled, sad, "I had other worries on my mind. You don't even have an idea how challenging is the survival for a young, inexperienced vampire in the city which is housing the headquarters of the Brotherhood."

"I am sorry, Charles," Erik tugged him closer, "For all it's worth, I am truly sorry."

"That's fine," hummed Charles into his chest, "but the issue of my lack of expertise is still on the table," he chuckled, the sound sending vibrations through Erik's body, "I fell in love with you the moment I laid my eyes on you. For me, it felt like waking up, and I want you, believe me, I want to have everything with you… Thanks to you, I know what love is, and thanks to the blood you've shared with me I remember what desire is. It's been a while, but… Erik," he moaned, startled, "what are you…"

"I like a good challenge," whispered Erik into his ear, and grinned, rewarded by another delightful sound, "Sorry, if this is too fast for you, Charles, but I feel obliged to prove you wrong. I'll make you come, without taking off a single piece of clothing. Let's spare your nineteenth century morals."

"Erik, I…" gasped Charles when Erik squeezed the firm flesh of his buttocks and moved his thigh between Charles', feeling the tell-tale bulge of growing erection, "Ah, I mean, Lord, mhh, I'm at least quite, oh Erik, knowledgeable. Theoretically…"

"Somehow, I don't doubt this," panted Erik in his mouth, amused, "you're quite scholarly… You… So precious to me."

That was as close to the confession as he's ever got in his whole life. That made Charles' eyes sparkle with unrestrained emotion and in the aftermath when they were both spent and Erik was absently tracing circles on Charles' fluffy sweater, feeling ridiculously inadequate joy, he realized that Charles never asked him to return the sentiment, was satisfied with things Erik was ready to offer and wasn't demanding more, has simply trusted Erik with everything and, oh gods, he blinked to chase wetness from his eyes, that was it, wasn't it?

...

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Raven took one look at them and wrinkled her nose in distaste as Charles' black coat has become grey with dust due to the spontaneous making out session in the utility room.

"Charles, you've got a cobweb here," she affectionately brushed his hair and sneezed, "My god, have you swept all the shelves with you coat while you were searching for a ghost? Or is that room always this dirty?"

Alex joined them in the hall, grim disappointment emanating from him in waves.

"Alex, what do you have?" asked Charles just for the protocol.

"Nothing. Sorry, that we've made you two come with us tonight, but I was one hundred percent sure that I've seen somebody, right this morning," he shook his head, "a black boy, my age, he wanted to say something as he dissipated… Man, I felt magical presence when we entered the building an hour ago, I swear!"

"Maybe you did," interrupted Erik, "but why do different people see different ghosts?"

"Those two from my class saw a woman," tiredly added Raven, "even though I doubt it now."

"That may mean that the phenomenon is larger than the appearance of one ghost and thus more serious," Charles tapped his shoulder and gestured to the stand in the centre of the hall, "No wonder, the school is often a centre of supernatural activity. The building was designed with the clear purpose to guard what is inside from coming out and vice a versa."

Erik looked closely at the plan, probably displayed here to boast the doubtful historical value of the damned place. Right, now he recognized the basic pattern, the whole building was a seal. Charles was really remarkable at this.

"Okay, okay," waved at them Raven from the front door, "we'll discuss it later. I'm seriously missing my wonderful four poster bed at the moment."

"What the hell!" she shrieked as her hand went through the door handle.

Erik stepped up to the stand and tried to touch it with the same result, his hand meeting no resistance of solid matter.

Well, fuck.

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	10. Part 9

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"It has been three days," said the kid in the green hoodie and grinned, "Sorry, guys, really glad that someone can see me, can't help myself. Being locked at school, especially at night," he shuddered, "you'll see for yourself at midnight."

Erik looked at his watch — they had twenty minutes, not much.

"Why did I see you in the morning, then?" grunted out Alex as they climbed the stairs to the roof, deemed the safest place here by the ghost named Armando, call-me-Darwin, who was not really the ghost… Well, Erik was sure that Charles has already mentally prepared a lection on the topic, judging by the thoughtful expression and the odd lack of comments, seeing how Raven and Alex painstakingly tried to walk through the walls, doors, windows and get outside, but in vain.

"I'm a shifter, I would demonstrate you, but my ability rarely obeys me in the Ghostworld. Sometimes, people can see me, it's like a tear in the veil, but it soon evaporates," he looked straight at Erik and made a welcoming gesture, "rooftop is the best place to hide when it comes."

"What comes?" dryly asked Raven walking straight through the door.

"Darkness," shrugged Armando, "I wish I knew, it's different every time."

"You seem strangely calm about this," observed Raven, in full suspicious mode.

"Panicking won't do any good," the boy nodded at her, "and you, and your friends don't seem surprised as well."

"We are used to this," simply said Alex, "We've came here to investigate tonight; actually, we go to this school."

"That was supposed to be my first day when I got sucked into this. I wonder what my mum is thinking right now…"

Nothing good, scowled Erik and looked up — the stars were innocuously blinking at him from the pitch black sky as if taunting him. Somewhere out there Shaw has probably collected all remaining relics and they didn't know where to search anymore. Shaw is always two steps ahead these days, even Charles' enthusiasm has somehow dimmed, which Erik previously believed was equivalent to the world peace, pigs flying in the sky, vampires smiling at him and kissing him goodnight and other highly improbable stuff.

"What happened to the other hmm… ghosts?" suddenly asked Charles and everyone turned to stare at him.

"That thing, darkness," gulped Armando, "I saw it devouring a girl the first night, she was also incorporeal, as she tried to sink through the floor. And, and then it, just, sort of clung to her and she was gone in an instant, I ran up the stairs and that, I…"

"That's alright," soothed him Charles, "You couldn't do anything. May I ask one more question," he waited for a stern nod, "Have you noticed anybody coming here at night by chance, not exactly human to be precise…"

"I think, I saw someone," the boy briefly glanced at Charles, "the man was walking along the corridor or… I don't know, I'm not sure, he seemed so unperturbed by… okay, I think he was something like darkness."

Erik subtly stepped closer to Charles and offered him a pat on the shoulder as he suddenly felt the need to reassure him, but didn't know how. He was new to this, to tentative commitment that bound them together and let Erik accept the assurance from Charles as well as inspire certainty in the other — those were Charles' words, not his. But Charles was absolutely right, regardless. He was also right when he insisted they deal with this ghost-phenomenon, because Shaw was not going anywhere, but lot's of evil has been drawn to the hellhole nonetheless.

Charles looked up at him, startled, but then smiled in a radiant way, which never failed to have a magical effect on Erik's state of mind.

"Vampire?" almost screeched the new kid, staring at Erik with wild eyes, "I knew it!"

"Not the tall and hostile, dude," Alex rolled his eyes in exasperation, "That one is a hunter. Charles is a vampire and if you're going to say something I might not like, I suggest you think twice before you do. Clear?"

"Relax, I'm cool about it. Vampires are great. Understood," weakly smiled call-me-Darwin and turned to Raven, "Is he for real?"

Raven practically fumed with anger as Alex was holding her hands in the tight grip and didn't let her pounce on the unsuspecting guy.

"Raven, darling, calm down," Charles took a step between her and the poor sod, who, by the looks of it, was seriously contemplating fleeing right through the ground.

"Hey you, hoodie boy," Erik gripped his shoulder and meaningfully squeezed, "and who was telling shit about not panicking, huh? You stay here and listen to Charles. Got it?"

"As if I have any choice," muttered the kid under his breath.

"We came here to help you, Armando," Charles nodded to Erik and he let go of the kid, staying close just in case.

"I need to take a closer look," continued Charles meanwhile, "to be absolutely sure that this is what I think it is. I reckon, I've dealt with it the past, the occurrence you've described is a parasitic essence feeding on life energy. Though, the last time I observed it, it was in a dormant state, so someone must direct it. That's the current hypothesis — a sentient mind must be keeping it under control," sequence of tremors interrupted him as the building itself seemingly groaned and came alive, "and it means, that I need to go down," finished Charles.

"Excuse me," Erik couldn't believe his ears, "I didn't catch that."

"I know that you did," evenly said Charles and cut upcoming protests with a curt gesture, "Let me clarify," Erik watched as dark, thin, flexible tendrils crawled through the steel door to the roof and made his hair stand on end, "those are feeding on life energy, I'm technically dead, hence resilient."

Dark appendages grew thicker as they completely covered the space before the door and crawled in their direction.

"It's never crawled that far," gasped Armando and helplessly looked at them, "once it touches you, you're doomed."

"Maybe, you're lying," huffed Raven but backed away.

"I don't believe he does," Charles was holding his gaze when he said, "Erik, you're in charge," — I have always been, wanted to protest Erik, — "whatever happens, don't touch it and don't try to follow me. I'll be back soon," with these words he sank through the floor and Erik's frantic hand caught nothing but air.

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"It doesn't work," Alex clenched his hands into the fists and started swearing. Erik caught a couple of words he could use himself.

Fifteen minutes after Charles was gone and the dark, living matter has covered nearly every corner of the rooftop, except for the one they have huddled on together, Erik and Alex flanking Raven and Armando.

Alex's magic was out of the picture, Raven couldn't change her form, Armando likewise, and does that mean that Charles, shit, damn it, he didn't have time to make sure that he wasn't affected. Trust him, you have to trust him to be alright, man up, everyone is adult and he is even more so — then why wasn't this mantra helping to steady his inner anxiety.

"Never thought I'd die like this," heard he a humourless chuckle as Raven leaned in to his back, "this is so mediocre, I can't believe it," whispered she.

"Death is often not heroic," Erik got out through his teeth, not in the mood for consolation, his mind and heart screaming _Charles_.

And then he closed his eyes, because Erik was certain he didn't want this rooftop to be the last thing he sees, it wept. The sound pierced through his head like thousand needles and made Erik drop to his knees. Wailing, screaming, crying, laughter filled his head with voices of hundreds of men, women and children, and he had to clamp his hands over his ears, distinctly realizing that it won't help, that his mind isn't able to withstand the pressure and then it stopped…

He found himself on the ground, slightly dazed but otherwise fine and slowly got up. He did it, Erik grinned with mirth — Charles has done it. He felt a strange sense of pride when he looked around and there was no dark tendril in sight.

Alex helped Raven to her feet and questioningly looked at him.

Right, Erik is in charge.

"Let's go and find Charles. Hoodie boy?"

"Yes, I'm in. Vampires are awesome, I got it," nodded he in mock defeat.

"Not vampires, dude," smirked Alex, "Charles is."

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"I've heard something from the cafeteria," said Raven and zipped past them at breakneck speed.

Erik followed behind, silently thanking all deities that she was not screaming Charles' name aloud and giving away their approach. She could be sensible when she tried. They got back their powers but having looked through all the classrooms on the second and first floor they still didn't have any idea where Charles might be. Erik stubbornly refused to go through different what-if scenarios and his gut feeling was telling him that this is not the end.

"Thank god, Charles!" she rushed to the vampire, who was heavily leaning on the door, "Are you hurt?" demanded Raven.

Charles smiled at her, he looked shaken and there was a gash on his face which started from the temple and ran to the cheekbone, but otherwise he seemed fine. Erik's heart faltered when Raven tugged him closer and Charles sighed in surrender.

"Raven, I'm fine. After all, I was right about a puppet-master, the demon from the nightmare category, as I call it. More importantly, is everybody alright?" he tilted his head in the easily-recognized manner and glanced at them, inquiry in blue eyes.

"Peachy," remarked Alex.

"Thank you, man," grinned Armando, call-me-Darwin, alright, Darwin is shorter, "Can we go home? Now that I think about it, I'm totally famished."

"By all means," nodded Charles and gestured ahead, "Shall we?"

"Right," muttered Alex and strolled down the corridor to the hall, "I'm sick of this place during the day, nothing can make me stay here more than absolutely necessary."

Erik silently followed them to the exit, tiny voice in the back of his mind setting a constant hell-bent litany — _something's not right, something's off, look, don't you see it_. He grimly watched Charles' back as he was mentally cataloguing the small details; there's nothing unusual — Charles' accent, too familiar smile, the gait is somewhat stiff — that coat probably hides some severe bruising, the coat was previously smudged, Erik felt almost guilty for trapping Charles in the dusty corner, but he couldn't help himself. The coat? Shit! Alex already pushed the doors open and Darwin was ready to step out. Erik dashed forward, putting himself directly in the demon's path, as he pushed Raven and Alex out of the way and with one hand slammed the creature wearing Charles' face to the doorpost.

"Erik!" it sounded so genuinely hurt, that Erik nearly faltered for a moment, but no, it won't do.

"Where is Charles?" his hand gripped the lapels of the coat and he jostled the creature's head, "Answer me!"

"Lehnsherr, explain," hissed Alex behind his back, "Or I swear, I'll…"

"What happened to his coat? Raven, you've noticed it yourself, right?" Erik carefully watched the creature for any signs of unease, the blue eyes reflected disdain for a brief moment and then it was Charles' bewildered gaze all over again. Fuck, this won't prove him right. Nobody has noticed.

"Alex," murmured Raven, "maybe Erik's telling the truth, unless he has discreetly visited the cleaners while we were looking for him."

"This is easy to check," sneered Erik at the creature, "If you're really Charles, why don't you get yourself out of my grip and out of the door. Oh, you can't," mockingly drawled Erik lowering his hand, "someone has to open the way. Unfortunately for you, my friend," he didn't intend to use that form of address — the reminder stung, "we're not going to do it."

He let go of the demon, who in response was sadly watching Erik as he righted the collar and shimmered.

"Erik, my dear boy," said his mother, "you've always been so careful. How could you let the vampire deceive you? Did you forget what your father used to say — beware of the darkness — veneer pleases the eyes but the demon will eat your heart at the end."

Erik felt as if he was drowning, his mother's words, not in the exact context, but those were his mother's words.

"Charles!" screamed Raven, "Where is Charles?"

"Raven, calm down," tiredly answered Charles' voice and more sternly, "you need to deal with that temper of yours if you want to survive in the normal society."

Enough.

"Alex, Darwin," barked Erik, "take Raven and get the hell out of here."

He was not afraid of the demons, he knew what they were capable of, and he also knew that real Charles was still inside. Those petty tricks are nothing. He's seen through illusions, found a weak point in the projection and he…

"By the way," Shaw turned to face Raven and Alex, Armando already stepping on the threshold, "there's something those two are not telling you. Someone of you has betrayed Erik and your benefactor, has told me the exact time and place, so that we could spend a quality time together. Of course, Erik is an old protégé of mine, but that vampire, the traitor, had to learn…"

Erik buried the dagger in Shaw's heart to the hilt.

"Get out! Now!"

The doors closed with a bang.

Charles looked him in the eyes, wistful, "I realize that you'll never love me back, I do. But I didn't expect you to hurt me so badly," he pulled out a dagger and held it like an offering, "Try one more time, Erik. With me, you have all the second chances in the world."

Don't look, don't listen, don't look…

Gods help me.

Erik backed away and ran.

Cafeteria! Check the cafeteria.

"Erik! Lord, you're here," Charles dove from the shadows, grabbed his wrist and tugged him to the kitchen door, "we don't have much time! We must burn down the corporeal remnants of the essence or it will keep trying to leave the premises."

Erik pushed him away.

Charles has frowned in confusion, the gash on his face more pronounced than before.

"Ah, I see," he looked at himself standing near the fridge.

"What took you so long?" panted Erik. Surely, one must be real.

"I was in the basement," replied two of them simultaneously, "The demon is dead, but the essence he called, grew in power after consuming human spirits and bodies. The central element of the seal is there, I couldn't leave it undone. It's reading our minds, Erik. Don't fall for it. Focus."

"If we leave it like this…"

…it will regain its power."

"That's excellent news," got out Erik, "Charles, do you trust me?"

"I do," they smiled.

"Okay, then let me choose."

He swallowed, hard, — who knew that fairy-tale scenario can be sometimes handy and reached for Charles' hand. Stupid thing, grinned Erik to himself, this is the easiest decision he's made tonight.

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They stumbled through the front doors together. Erik didn't let go of Charles during the crazy sprint down the corridor, roar of fire hot on their heels. He sank to the ground once they were out and Charles followed, never letting go of him, two of them locked in tight embrace. Erik's hands had fisted in Charles' coat, what a moronic demon, lucky them, but the things it has said — Erik's sanity, beliefs, memories madly mashed together, damn, it nearly got him there.

Raven's cries in the background, Alex, patting his shoulder, Darwin, anxiously asking something, seemed too far away. Charles, Charles is here…

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	11. Part 10

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No wonder that after the last night's adventures his dreams were full of ominous, truly terrible stuff — he was still seeing the flashes as soon as he closed his eyes. The visions have been imbedded in his mind: vivid, powerful images, threatening to leave constant imprints on his eyelids as they were unfolding before his mind's eye, unfortunately too fresh to will them away. Shaw, the strange helmet obscuring his features, standing on the edge of the abyss, holding the pendant in the outstretched hand as scarlet blood was pooling at his feet; Raven in her blue form, fighting by his side; he also has seen himself, lying motionless on the stone floor, neck twisted at an unnatural angle, blank eyes staring at nothing; Charles, hurriedly snatching the flask from Hank and gulping down the contents and again there were relentless shadows with spidery fingers and Charles, reaching out for him and turning to dust in Erik's embrace… Erik woke up with Charles' name on his lips, silent scream threatening to tear from his throat, sheets twisted round his body vine-like, pillows and duvet thrown on to the floor somewhere in the middle of his fitful, totally restless sleep.

After splashing face with icy cold water, he let his grip on the pristine surface of the sink go lax. In the moments like this, Erik hated his life, his fucking not-so-honorable-at-all destiny, secretly wishing to be someone else, but not a forever doomed fighter. The reflection in the merciless mirror calmly observed Erik with weary, tired gaze, the pallor of skin making him look like a vampire and it was nothing like Charles' complexion, which, decided Erik, was much more aristocratic than his sickly white face, currently bearing the evidence of the lingering nightmare, weariness and general lack of good rest.

Charles was nowhere to be found, so Erik strolled to the library, hoping to catch him there. The need to see him was especially consuming in the aftermath of the dream, and though Erik knew for sure that he has never had any prophetic visions before in his entire life, the persistent fear was pushing him forward in his ministrations.

Upon opening the doors he observed a peaceful picture — Raven was curled on the sofa, under the red and black afghan, carefully tucked around her sleeping form. Charles was smoothing the blanket as he turned to face Erik.

Too preoccupied with the dream, he's forgotten about the conversation they had had with Raven and Alex after coming home. Erik let Charles do the talking, trusting him to present the truth in the moderated light, because all he could say was bordering on — yeah, the demon was damn right, Shaw is immensely powerful and becoming more so, soon he will call the demon and the world will be destroyed, he had tortured and nearly killed Charles and someone of you has already known it long ago.

Charles motioned for him to be quiet, but still eagerly melted in the embrace, as soon as Erik beckoned him closer to the door to plant the series of small kisses on his lips, chin, cheekbones, along the cut on his temple, while Charles happily nuzzled up against him. Erik's suddenly got a mental image of an overly affectionate cat and appreciatively chuckled when Charles ran his hands along his chest, the firm pressure provided by the simple caress stirring a fire in the pit of his stomach.

"Erik," he murmured, barely audible, "is that your hand?"

"Obviously. Don't like it?"

"Ah, I do. I…yes, Erik. But not in here, Raven's asleep, oh — feels wonderful…"

"Sure you want me to go?"

"I want us to… good. Erik… I mean, let's go... the laboratory."

"What?" to tell the truth Erik had a different location on his mind, the one with a bed or a sofa without any relatives-shapeshifters in vicinity.

Charles stroked his hair, fond and regretful.

"Erik, my friend," he still calls me that — dumbly thought Erik, "we need to talk to Hank. Something dreadfully important has come up."

"Shaw," scowled Erik.

The bastard manages to spoil Erik's life even from afar.

"Also…" Charles closed the doors and hesitated.

"Is anything bothering you at the moment? Erik, you seem very exhausted — not that you don't have every reason to be, but… you can tell me everything. You know, you can."

Does he look that bad or is it just Charles?

No, Charles is really worried — now that Erik had mustered courage to properly hold his attentive gaze he saw it himself. How did Erik come to read the other man with such effortlessness remained a secret. He just did. Apparently, this is a two-way street.

"Just a dream."

"Ah, understood," Charles has accepted dismissal well, more prudent to wait for the right time than to pry now.

"How are you so perfect for me?"

In Charles' presence his brain once in a while switched to autopilot, hence the most embarrassing words leaving his mouth unrestrained. Charles lowered his eyes as he was clearly attempting to hide astonishment, a demure smile blossoming like a warm sunbeam and Erik was immediately drawn to him, trying to soak up that incredible light.

Indeed, he was doomed.

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Hank opened the drawer and cautiously took out the half-burned piece of paper, his manners impressively deft and efficient as he laid the paper on the clean surface of the desk for everybody to see. Taking a single look at the illustration made Erik feel the all familiar sick twist deep inside; fate can never resist stabbing him.

"I saw it," he forced out a few words, "In my dream Shaw was already wearing it. What's this?"

The sketch showed a helmet of the curious design, the one Erik has seen so clearly, as clearly as he was able to feel blood on his hands or the very real anguish together with piercing despair — the senses chaining him to the nightmare, which, so it appears, was not a dream at all.

"You're probably right, some elements of the dream may be prophetic," Charles pinched the bridge of his nose after listening to Erik's explanation, the gesture aimed to provide him with brief relief, "Thank you for sharing, Erik."

"Everybody is concerned, so why not…" travelled he.

"The book of Elevation tells us about mighty warriors revealing the divine will…" Hank was the only one undisturbed, "The credibility of the source is doubtful though, the book is only a replica of the original tablets and who knows what else was lost to us due to translation. Either way, as a hunter, you suit the description even more now, because earlier Heaven's will has been traditionally interpreted as inclination."

Erik remembered one thing about prophecies —there were roughly two kinds of them. The first were meant as warnings, sign of impending danger or evil — those could and ought to be averted, but the second pictured the clear glimpses of the upcoming events and in this case any endeavor to stave off the future was destined to end in vain.

Charles shook his head when Erik has mentioned this.

"Although some of the elements might come to be predictions, I doubt that the whole dream counts. Well, consider it a tandem of the kind: glimpses from the future and your subconsciousness. Some parts of what you've told me don't stick together. This helmet, for instance… Hank, may I borrow that?"

"Belonged to the greatest warrior, who has died in order to defeat the demon," helpfully added Hank, offering Charles his tablet — and Erik thought back to the legend.

"It has to be a powerful asset, the protection from demonic powers."

"Do you know the place?" simply asked Erik, staring at the sketch, Hank and Charles' rationality had appeared incredibly contagious at the end.

"There's no need," Charles tapped the screen of the device, which, even to Erik, who appreciated high tech, looked like a gadget out of the futuristic movie and showed them the display. "I've just bought the lot 43, introduced as a helmet of the Roman legionary, also family heirloom, which is overpriced by at least ten thousand. Saw it the other day and decided to check the site."

_Fuck, he is brilliant_— woke up his inner voice.

"I hope this is the one," mentioned Hank, heedless, "Otherwise, I've run out of ideas."

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Patrolling the cemetery with Charles by his side was a leisure stroll. Patrolling with Charles, Raven and Alex was completely different, totally unlike the pleasant tryst.

"Come on, Charles, let's check the fresh graves together. Erik and Alex can pair up and search around the old witches' sepulture."

After the truth about their encounter with Shaw had been revealed, Raven has glued herself to her brother's side whenever possible. You won't understand — she told Erik the first time he asked why she's chosen to live with a vampire — what we've been through together cemented our relationship; did you know that Charles has found me on the streets and has given me everything… Erik didn't understand then, but does he now? In the way she behaved around Charles he saw not so subtle need and devotion and wondered at Charles' ability to diffuse all kinds of uncomfortable situations sprouting up from teenage girl's crush without hurting her feelings in the process. Many years of experience belonged particularly to Charles and have helped him to master that uneasy task of navigating the sea of human world. One had to learn if eager to survive. Judging by everything Erik has deduced and had been briefly told by Charles, the road to becoming his own self again for Charles as a vampire was paved with broken glass. That was Charles for you, making the impossible possible — Erik privately smiled, heart stuttering for a moment when he remembered a dream.

"Lehnsherr," Alex stepped up closer and lowered his voice, "we need to talk."

Stupid, wanted to remark Erik — at this distance, at about thirty feet away, the old vampire like Charles will certainly hear you talking. Not that it matters anyway.

"So," Erik made a meaningful pause, "how is your investigation going on, Sherlock?"

Alex scowled.

"At least I'm doing something."

"I have no doubt."

"Look, Lehnsherr," the kid sounded a bit tired, which prompted a pang of unwanted sympathy, "I want to help."

"Alright," Erik could give him a chance, he felt no need to fret over bunch of occasionally rebellious, foolish teenagers, that was Charles' prerogative and Charles never overdid it as well.

"Darwin has agreed to help us," inspired by his nod Alex sped up, "that makes six of us: you, me, Raven, Charles, Hank and him. Angel and Sean are out of the question for now, and since you've practically burned down the left wing of the school, we suddenly have prolonged holidays."

"I've always thought that they were also leaving in the mansion," muttered Erik and eyed Alex.

"No, of course not!" he raised both eyebrows on Erik, thinking something uncomplimentary — he could bet his sword on it. "Sean's parents are constantly travelling around the country, so he stays with us most of the time and everyone's used to this. Angel's mother usually doesn't give a damn…"

That was it — Charles, implying that there may be consequences for kids, refusing to believe that the betrayal can be consensual. Did he mean their respective families? More than that, Charles purposefully renditioned all of them from the equation. Have finally realized what kind of evil are they fighting this time…

"I'll find out who did this," firmly stated Alex, "rest assured, Lehnsherr."

"Have fun," Erik couldn't be less sincere — after all, not every day you find a traitor in your so-to-say-family; that must be thrilling. It's not that Erik didn't care for the kids, but that would never compare with how much he cared for Charles.

Regrettably for Erik and Alex the trip to the sepulture was a waste of time, the leaves around the stone structure undisturbed. No vampire in sight, which was definitely unusual for the cemetery situated straight on the hellhole.

"All clear!" Alex dutifully nodded, "Okay. I'll tell him. Fuck, the signal is no good. Yes, the eastern gates."

"Are they done?"

"Yes, that's all for tonight. Strangely quiet, isn't it?"

I have a really bad feeling about this, thought Erik wearily as he watched Alex's unusually haggard and drawn face. The odds are not in their favor, not at all. They quickly approached the exit, Charles and Raven waiting for them outside. The moon was obscured by a thick grey cloud, the shape of a dragon, as Erik's eyes have followed the shadow running on the ground until it caught up with their little group and cloaked everything in dark. The air of mysteriousness has lingered and at the same time dread stirred in Erik's heart.

Alex gasped and nearly doubled, clutching his chest as he swayed on his feet.

"Magic," he shook his head when Erik took a step in his direction, "don't, don't come closer…"

"Alex!" Charles appeared at his side in a flash, "Where?"

"Everywhere, I, fuck, I don't know," he panted.

Suddenly, Erik felt a slight vibration — his shocked expression was not left unnoticed by Charles. He slowly pulled out the pendant, which was now emitting a dull blue glow. Oh fuck, he dumbly stared at Charles like a drowning man must look at an approaching lifeboat, all hope concentrating in those calm blue eyes turned yellow, which bore into his own with burning intensity.

"Shaw has found the location of the pendant and the flask, I believe," observed Charles, reserved.

The vampire in him always spoke in the way which sent shivers down Erik's spine, making him excited for no particular reason. Gods, this is not the time to think those thoughts. Shit!

"Here they come," Alex's voice carried the certainty with a hint of poorly concealed dread.

The first vampire came into the view when they reached the gates. Raven performed a well placed kick in the stomach and swiftly drove the stake through the creature's chest in mid motion, her movements fluid and deadly.

"Alex, we don't have time for this!"

"Okay," breathed out the boy and the two approaching bloodsuckers were swept to the side by the blazing wave of energy.

"Raven," she caught the keys in midair as Charles quickly bit out, "you're driving."

Erik knew where it was going this time.

"I'm staying with you," after all as a hunter he couldn't let the vampires run around unattended, and had to do his job.

Alex attempted to say something, but Charles has apparently read his mind.

"Alex, I need you in the mansion."

"Erik," Charles leaned to kiss him so unexpectedly, that Erik didn't manage to react in a proper way — he pulled away too soon.

Raven whistled behind his shoulder and forcibly dragged slack-jawed Alex into the car.

"Of course you stay," smiled Charles, mischief alight in his non-human eyes as the vampires emerged from the shadows. So many, thought Erik, his mind registering the squeal of tyres — Raven's gonna burn the rubber like that, and the roar of the first vampire, stabbed by Charles.

Okay, he grinned. He's dancing with death again tonight — child's play.

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	12. Part 11

_T__hank you guys (guests) for dropping a comment. I do hope that you like it and will proceed reading. Either way, thank you really, really much._

_Don't be afraid to tell me what you like and don't like about the story._

_Happy reading!_

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"My friend, please, hold still."

He gritted his teeth as Charles was tending to his injured wrist, swollen and twisted, and therefore pulsating with sharp shards of pain — as if somebody was meticulously sticking hot nails in the hand.

"Brocken?"

Nodding, Charles pursed his lips in a thin line, nimble fingers carefully applying bandages, white stripes quickly produced from Charles' own shirt.

"Fuck!"

He needs that hand to hold a sword, damn.

"In a week it should be fine. With your amazing healing rate…"

"We don't have a week, Charles," yeah, no time for tea and sympathy.

"We don't…" diligently echoed Charles, fixing the loose end in place and finally meeting Erik's gaze. He has also received his share of some nasty looking bruises and cuts, but nothing worse, thank gods for small mercies.

Under the moonlight, which was somber and sad as it illuminated the patch of the area previously overcrowded with raging vampires, they were sitting on the bench outside the ring-fence embracing the cemetery. Leaning on the helpful wood, Erik had been only catching his breath, when Charles started fussing over him. The battle was intense, the residual adrenaline still rushing through his bloodstream, numbing the pain together with excitement. By then, Raven and Alex have reached the mansion and reported to Charles that the laboratory in the basement was torn apart — only the red demon could get there so fast, was the first lucky guess, — several rooms have been thoroughly ravished likewise, but, anyway, it was not as awful as Erik had dreaded. Hank escaped with the flask before it started. Thankfully, he's just been doing tests in the laboratory when he noticed the suspicious glowing and vibration coming from the relic. Having a contingency plan for every happenstance is an incredibly awesome idea, darkly mused Erik. Hence, they have managed to keep the relics in their hands but for how long.

Reluctantly, he had let Charles help him to his feet which was completely unnecessary of course, but Erik didn't want to deny himself the pleasure of the other's caring touch.

"How do we get to Raven now?" grumbled Erik, straightening his legs.

His question went unanswered when Charles visibly tensed and turned around on his heels, letting go of Erik's arm.

"Hunter," the succubus was leaning against the tree, white figure making quite a striking contrast with surrounding shadows, the silver of gun steady presence in her outstretched hand, "nice meeting you again."

"And you," she playfully cocked a barrel in Charles' direction, and continued in a silkily voice, "are the walking nuisance Sebastian likes to complain about. We've met so briefly, that I didn't have a nice chance to see for myself what kind of vampire has been making Sebastian more and more twitchy. I have to say that you don't strike me as a worthy opponent, but with your kind you never know."

As Erik has suspected, she was just too willing to chat his ears off.

"What the hell do you want?" two can play at that game and besides, Erik inwardly cringed, in terms of speed and strength they have been nearly equal, and at the same time she was not that exhausted, plus the gun — risking another injury didn't seem like a good idea right now.

"Erik," his companion said in what he believed was a placating manner, "I think that the lady simply wants to talk."

"Thank you, sugar," she sounded amused. "I'm pleased to meet someone who knows what good manners are."

Erik growled for lack of better words. This is not a frigging gala or a fund-raiser party, they are on the cemetery, for fuck's sake.

She took a step closer, gracefully moving forward, every single motion of her body dripping with seduction and… Erik frowned, when he didn't feel the heat so memorable since their last meeting. Smirking at him in the all-knowing manner, she hid the gun in the purse which was as blindingly white as the rest of her attire and promptly occupied the middle of the bench. Somehow, that has made Erik feel like a fool — he and Charles were left standing of course. Damn witch!

"So," he asserted her posture with the healthy amount of caution, "spill. And do it quickly!"

Small pains and aches have finally caught up with him, the broken wrist was on fire, his head was pounding on top of that — Erik has been having the stubbornly increasing headaches since the nightmare, which didn't improve his mood in the slightest.

"Presumably, I have something you may be interested in…" drawled the succubus. Normally, Erik would use this opportunity to attack or run, if the circumstances demanded, but when he stole a glance at Charles, standing attentive and alert, he decided to bear with it for a little longer.

"Up until now you've been on the other side of… hmm… of the conflict," rather lamely offered Charles, his voice quieter than normal.

She shrugged in response, the corners of her lips curled upwards after she's looked Charles up and down in a way that immediately made Erik see red.

"Initially, it was my destiny to work with pleasure, the most basic and natural desires for both men and women, and the most sacred for that matter. There's no need to explain the mechanics for you, except," the succubus looked from Erik to Charles, mischief sparkling in her otherwise cold blue eyes, "you may need some tutoring, sugar. For a fellow demon, I can offer an extremely sufficient bargain."

"Me? I, n-no, thank you," gulped Charles, earning himself a tug so that Erik could drag him closer to jostle from the spell.

"Stop it!" he bellowed, the remnants of patience flying right out of the window.

"I shall," predatory smile twisted her mouth, "but you're so over each other that I couldn't refrain from testing the state of affairs — this is the art of planting discord in the depths of receptive hearts, part of habit, so to say."

"Erik!" Charles was holding his good arm in a steel grip. "Please, calm down! Erik, she's doing it on purpose."

"I know," shot back Erik. And I want to smash her face in, regardless.

"You and Raven must be related," murmured Charles, taking his hand back.

His face shifted, the vampire mask falling back into place.

"I can't exactly let you go back now," drily said Charles. "You have to understand that. Won't it be more convenient to go straight to the topic?"

"We're dropping the pretence here, I like it," her skin rippled, darkening to deep purple, eyes gleamed with bright green, hair whitened. The end of the long, darkish tail twined around her ankle and Erik's eyes has nearly popped out — he's seen the sketches in the oldest books, but this creature was something totally alien, neither human, nor demonic, mostly resembling the wet dream of every fantasy fan suddenly coming alive in all its seductive glory. Well, now he knows how a real-life succubus should look.

"I've brought this," she lifted her wrist with a massive bracelet, "to show you that my intentions are as pure as possible. It grants you the power to become invisible and untraceable and I'm going to use it to its full extent to get away from here."

To tell the truth a tiny part of Erik had harbored the hope that all Charles' hypothesizing about the descending of the most fearful demon in the history of the realm, provided by Shaw, would prove wrong, that, perhaps, the bastard is simply after the powerful magic. As if.

If past experience has taught him something — they would be facing the catastrophe twice bigger than expected.

"He needs a hunter, the descendant of the demon, to gather all relics together and open the passage," she said, staring Erik down. "And for some reason he has decided that you would make a perfect vessel, handsome."

Charles didn't appear surprised, but he, at least, had the decency to look at Erik with guilty eyes.

Erik didn't let his expression slip even a bit. The rest of the news was also fucking terrific. Emma, as she has introduced herself to them, was taking the relic and fleeing the town, because as funny as the affair has been before, she did see a lot in her lifetime and the descend of the powerful demon, the name was hissed through her teeth and Charles gasped, shocked, is the last thing on her list. From the very beginning, Shaw promised them something akin to establishing royalty in the world of demons and supernatural beings, enslaving for the humans and the throne for his beautiful queen.

How old are you — he was tempted to snarl, half a millennium behind your shoulders and you still believe in the fairy-tales. _She can be young enough_, observed his ever present annoying consultant, _don't forget that she has started as a human, like Charles__—__only in her case, the metamorphosis was the conscious choice of the mortal woman once betrayed by her beloved._ Or so say the legends.

As it happened, realized Erik, Shaw has become too powerful to kill him and too insane to manipulate him.

"What do you want from us? Help?"asked Erik with a warning smirk, heart hammering in his chest for a completely different reason. Later. Charles must tell him what she has meant by _demonic descendant_ later.

"I want you to stop him," the succubus stood up and glowered at him. "A young man like yourself shouldn't be so grumpy," suddenly she looked up at the moon and shrugged, "as I have mentioned before you interrupted me, my business is mainly pleasure, and there will be no pleasure in the realm absorbed by the darkness itself. He will descend and swallow the entire world… the ultimate nightmare, the hell master, the one who is darker than the darkness…"

Before his mind's eye he's seen the tendrils of the dark matter, crawling to him, to devour him alive, to swallow his flesh and his soul, to make him disappear completely.

"Thank you, Emma," a mix of quiet respect and ruefulness filtered through Charles' eyes. "But, I do have one more question if you can spare a minute."

"Everything for you, sugar."

"Tell us, how he knew about…"

"Oh, that?" she has approached Charles and leaned to whisper something in his ear, too close for Erik's liking.

Charles tensed, then nodded and after that shuddered and clasped her hand.

"Hey, get away from him!" time to end this shit, Erik's irritation has hit the highest point.

"There's no need to worry about your paramour's virtue," nevertheless, she quickly stepped aside, the tail instantly slipping from Charles' thigh, and smirked, before disappearing on the spot, no warnings and goodbyes in order. This one had a thing for theatrics, scowled Erik. The perfect companion for Shaw.

They both had been silent for a while, for different reasons, until Charles sighed and slowly, uncertainly, as if not daring, all the more terrified for that, approached him and calmly looked up, the dark pupils completely obscuring the irises and making him look even more outworldly than before.

"Erik," he was ready to plead, noticed Erik, as he's considered himself guilty for some reason. He can't watch Charles do it.

"You can't!"

"I wanted to tell you… What?"

"Fuck, I mean, I don't blame you for concealing the dreadfully important information concerning myself… It sounds terrible," he huffed out a breath. "Okay, I'm angry, but not too much. You'd better tell me everything right now and I won't be angry any more. Deal?"

"Yes, that will do… I, thank you, Erik, this is a bit unusual but, ah, I'm glad, thanks! So I didn't fully realize it the first time I attempted the translation. Later, I couldn't help but wonder that something was probably amiss, so then I started checking all the references and soon the picture was more or less clear. Let's assume, that the mages, sealing the demon's spirit, had committed a crime, you must remember that the demon couldn't be killed by the hand of the mortal. In the search of power they attempted villainy unheard of, and thus sealed the part of the spirit in the body of the mightiest man, who could withstand the weight of it and serve the mages, fighting for the realm. The hero, the first hunter…" the desolation was spilling from his every word, guilt, shame and regret. "Sometimes it feels as if I have been there and have seen it with my own eyes, I don't know why, but I am somehow able to see it so clearly, like the burden is mine to carry…"

He calmed down in Erik's arms, hands tightly wound round Erik's waist as Charles has been holding for dear life.

Persistently bright visions were unfolding before Erik's eyes again.

"I know what dream I'm seeing next, then," he chuckled, slightly despising himself for yielding to his weakness.

"The strength, the speed, the healing abilities and the sense of incoming danger are more than outstanding for ordinary people," said Charles. "If it was just a genetical quirk, a mutation, when why is it so selective. The right answer is that every hunter has a part of the demon, sealed within, thus all the benefits..."

"Demon? I'm not even surprised," Erik closed his eyes — how long was Shaw searching for the information, how many hunters did he kill, everyone from the Inner Circle and now it makes sense. Somebody in the Brotherhood must know the truth, and Erik was never been considered mature enough to be trusted with this, but this is his life… what else does he not know about himself.

"You are you, Erik. First and foremost, you're my hero," beatific smile blossomed on Charles' face. "My love," he whispered, a touch shyly, "my dear friend…"

"What was she doing with that tail, Charles? You've been squirming," embarrassed, he clumsily attempted to change the topic.

_Come on, say it at last, you fucking chicken. A couple of short, simple words can't be that hard to pronounce_ — inner voice was bitching more than ever, damn.

Oblivious Charles has let himself be distracted from the issue in the way which involved a lot of kissing and touching, Erik's one-handedness making it a little awkward but soon not bothering them anymore.

_What are you doing, man? Do you have no place to be right now? The world is ending._

Shut the fuck up.

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	13. Part 12

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Quiet providentially, Angel's neighborhood has been situated in a quiet and dull place opposite the ancient, abandoned factory, which failed to attract any investors and has been currently serving as an unhealthy playground for the younger children at daytime and for the pack of wild dogs at night. Alex was waiting for them on the porch, poorly masking his unease with a frown. Approaching sunset molded his features into eerie harmony, gave him so vivid the appearance of the archangel as those rays were bathing him in golden light. Westchester made Erik learn a few things — among those the phenomena of deceptive appearances might be… or rather was the crucial one.

"And I was afraid, you'd be another hour late," venomously spat the teen.

"Shut up, Alex!" Raven's slow boiling fury and weariness laced every word, threatening to shatter the fragile barriers of patience. For some inexplicable reason, Erik understood perfectly clear the undercurrent of her thoughts and emotions so similar to his own.

Desolate — that's what first came to his mind when he stepped inside the dusty place, where Angel and her mother used to live, which now stood empty, but strangely loud —little sharp noises filled the air, as if the entire house was hissing _intruders_ to them. Visibly bracing himself, Alex followed them and tightly shut the door, cutting off the lively children's voices from across the narrow road.

"There's a barrier outside the house, which has been established about a month ago," he huffed, noticing the twin disbelieving looks, "What? Do you think the little bastards from outside wouldn't have crawled in the house if they knew that nobody lives here anymore?"

"Charles has told us that once the palavering… er… something gets discovered, the magic vanishes."

"Did you check everything?" asked Erik before Alex had the chance to ridicule Raven's mispronunciation of the demonic creature's name, which was not really important right now.

"We did!" so Darwin helped him as well.

The body in the basement was dried like a mummy, but, by all means, it was Angle's mother —unless demon had wasted time to redress his victim before sucking out her life. It was partly a relief, that the girl herself was nowhere to be found, and that confirmed Erik's suspicions, that Shaw must have been holding her elsewhere — the peculiar feature of the Malphericks, the demons which stole faces and never mix it with shapeshifting, was that they had also taken away the memories of the victim, feeding on them until there was nothing left and all this time pretending to be the person they have been slowly killing day by day. Erik has heard of the demons doing it for months, putting the humans in the magic-induced sleep and living with their prospective families as if nothing has happened. As for Angel, well, Erik was personally not sure how keeping her alive was beneficial for Shaw. Furthermore, Charles has offered an idea that the Malphericks were mildly telepathic, thus the ability to impersonate someone so flawlessly and convincingly even for people who knew the victim really well. So, even taking this new idea into consideration he still doubted…

"Is there a chance that she's alive?"

"Why do you ask me?" Erik was not truly surprised by the question; he was just not ready to answer it.

"Because, unlike Charles, you're a jerk who doesn't care that we'd lost our friend and you'll tell the truth," drawled Alex.

Don't kill him, don't kill him…

In Charles' absence the mantra has lost its effectiveness.

It was Raven who punched Alex in the stomach so hard, that he doubled, gasping for air.

"Raven!"

When distant steps and the obligatory door bang had signaled her departure, Erik has offered a mocking salute to red-faced, wheezing Alex. Way to go, pal.

"Brace yourself for worse," simply said he, "because antagonizing each other is definitely not a sensible road to survival."

Profanities left Erik unfazed; he has recognized that painful, vehement anger, the desire to hurt verbally if not physically as it was the only way to get the semblance of outlet and let the monster inside calm down for the time being. He used to be there too.

"Come on, I don't give a damn what the hell has happened between you two, but," he glanced at Alex with what he hoped was a cold expression, "don't you dare upset Charles."

The irony of the situation has been finally caught up and Alex blinked at Erik a few times, before leaning on the wall. Unexpectedly, he started laughing, very loudly, so Erik has fought the urge to remind him that they were standing near the corpse, for fucks sake, until he has heard the tell-tale sound of the stifled sob. Without uttering a single word, he turned around and went up the stairs, something telling him that leaving is a marvelous decision right now.

The kid will be alright in time.

Maybe.

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The library was the place where everyone could seek refuge from everyday concerns, so no wonder that all the kids and Hank have been here tonight. The doors were closed and gentle, warm lamplight created surprisingly nice atmosphere inside the enclosed room. Feel it Erik did, as soon as he sat beside Charles, who leaned into his personal space without a second thought, but this peace, he mused, won't last for long…

"Basically, that's all what we have for now," Hank put the book back on the desk and Erik reached for it with his good hand.

"Okay," Raven started counting, "Shaw has got four, this succubus has stolen one, we've got two."'

"And the helmet," added Sean.

"Plus the helmet," agreed Raven, "but we're still at a disadvantage, right?"

A smile graced Charles' lips nonetheless, tiny but hopeful, and then he gently shook his head.

"We've not given up yet, my dear."

"There's something I don't understand," Alex, who has been silent up to this moment, spoke up, "If the entity of the demon is hypothetically so powerful, how is that vampire going to control it. Just ask — please, can you be so evil to destroy the world and wipe the humans off the face of the realm," his imitation of the Shaw's pleading voice made Raven and Sean snicker.

"We don't know for sure," slowly said Charles, "but the ritual, the description of which was stolen from the library, a regrettable loss in these circumstances, although not as terrible as the other though…" Erik realized that he's meant Angel and put his hand on the top of Charles'.

"The ritual must tie the demon to the will of the one who has called it…"

"Maybe, we should pack the relics and go somewhere else, somewhere safe," Sean looked at Erik and nodded to himself, "or Erik can go alone, it's dangerous for him to stay here any longer. We'll manage, we've been doing it for years."

"Absolutely not," drily said Erik.

"Okay, don't be mad," stammered Sean.

"Erik is not angry with you, Sean. And as for the estimated time of the ritual, again, remember that I am not sure exactly, but the full moon is rising in two days. This time," Charles looked up from the book, "we attack the enemy's quarters."

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"I don't know, the spell we've been working on with Alex has to protect the premises from intruders, but Azazel, the teleporting demon… Erik, are you listening to me at all?"

"I am," hummed Erik and pulled Charles onto his lap in one smooth move that had the latter press his lips to Erik's in a wet, perfect kiss. His good hand rested on Charles' hip, pinning him closer as Charles had wrapped both hands around his neck. The tongues and lips moved in a wonderful synch, while they've been devouring each other. And every time was like the first time.

"You didn't tell me about your dreams last night," murmured Charles when Erik pressed their foreheads together in attempt to catch a breath.

"Same shit," his voice sounded harsh even to his own ears.

_Don't worry, I won't let you die._

"Erik," Charles tentatively slid one hand lower, caressing his shoulder, his forearm until he took Erik's hand in his and moved it to his belt buckle, "I thought, that maybe… you want to…" he shifted, raising honest blue eyes and peering at Erik; so close, the raw power of that gaze was overwhelming.

"I'll consider your offer, Charles. In the meantime…" his hand was suddenly slapped as Charles sulked at him, the expression obscured by lowered eyelashes. He must be hiding that shy, satisfied smile, which was one of Erik's favorites, because he was the only one allowed to see it.

"You're an impossible man, Erik Lehnsherr," it was followed by the pleased gasp when Erik did a quick job of unfastening Charles' belt and pulling down the zipper.

"I want you so much. You, Charles, have no idea what I'm going to do to you. Remember what I told you before, once I get you in a decent bed — I won't let you out of it for a week. At least."

"You shouldn't be exaggerating, my friend," he stammered when Erik nuzzled his cock, the thin fabric of the boxers the only barrier between the skin to skin contact, but it was enough to draw a nice, loud moan from his soon to be lover's lips. Gods, he wants to consummate this relationship right now, to make Charles his, as he very well must be, because he's never felt this before…

"I've always imagined having sex with you in your bed, but mine will also suffice," said his mouth without any premise from his brain, while Erik was busy undoing the buttons of Charles' shirt, and he nearly kicked himself for the lamest line anyone could come up with in this situation.

"If it matters so much," blinked at him Charles, bewildered, "we can go to my room. Is this some sort of ritual where the place plays a very important part or did I…"

"Sorry," Erik wanted the earth to open and swallow him whole, "I meant to say how beautiful you are," his hand travelled from Charles' collarbones to his exposed chest, stopping to rub at the hardened nipples and swallowing the sweet moans with his mouth, "how amazing you are, and how much…"

Abruptly, Charles has stilled, as tense and white as if the hand of death has just reached out and touched him with icy claws.

"Erik," he gritted out, "someone has breached the barrier!"

Goddamn. Fucking shit! Erik grabbed the jacket from the floor and dashed to the door, Charles followed behind, shirt buttoned up and the look of determined concentration plastered to his features.

Too soon! Erik, swore to himself — fuck, his arm has not healed yet. Crap!

"The laboratory," Charles has knitted his brows, yellowish light flashing through darkened eyes, "I'll go and check. Please, wake up Raven, her room is next to the library."

Grimly, Erik nodded and ran up the stairs, taking two at a time and regretting his inability to fly or teleport. Near the library he stopped, lack of armor nagging him like an extremely persistent white noise, until his legs had carried him to the wall with the sacred sword, which fit his hand like nothing else.

He ducked in time to save his head from being separated from the body but not quickly enough as the strong appendage twisted around his sling and Erik has felt a pull, which sucked all air from his lungs. Motherfucker! He drew the broken arm closer as his sword flashed down at lightning speed, cutting the thing in two. Having lost his balance, Erik took a step back from the wailing demon — take that, asshole, there must have been sensitive nerve endings in that tail! His foot slipped on the wet ground and the cold sweat broke down his back when Erik took in his surroundings. With a cry he pounced at the red demon, but it was too late.

Oh gods! Heavy, panicked gasps left his mouth, and white clouds were hanging before his face like omens in the freezing air, while he was standing on what appeared to be the river bank, and the only known river nearby was the one in the park, which embraced the town from the west and that meant Erik was eight miles away from the mansion, from Charles. Disgusted, he threw the tail, still twitching in his grip to the side, dumbly noticing in his petrified state the black bloodstains on the whiteness of his arm sling.

Snap out of it!

Erik bit on his lower lip, hard.

Running through the park so fast that his legs were burning and his lungs strained to accommodate some air, had miraculously helped him to clear his head.

He dashed across the street and a couple of drunkheads whistled at him, some girl shrieked _machete_, but Erik's mind refused to focus his attention on bystanders, and secrecy, and nothing except running. The fat man in the baseball cap has finished parking next to the convenience store when Erik took his chance to push him from the car and snatch the keys from clumsy fingers. He drove to the estate like a madman, the car grumbled and wailed as he pressed the gas. Half an hour or more has passed? Not sure anymore… Damn!

He didn't notice the smoke until the last turning which finally revealed the massive structure to his eyes and his heart missed a beat.

Kicking the front doors open he stormed inside, expecting the fire, dead bodies, Shaw, but there was nothing. The smoke, though, was coming from the left wing and Erik rushed up the stairs and along the corridor, heart pounding somewhere in his throat. Everyone, please, be okay.

The smoke was coming from the library, as well as the sounds of someone crying. Through the open doors Erik has seen the mess which was previously the most valuable collection of the sacred literature in this hemisphere thrown to the floor, the blackened, burnt shelves stared at him with reproach, smoke slowly dissipating, as Sean was viciously fighting the remnants of fire with a blanket.

Raven was huddled next to the overturned desk, Alex's bloodied head carefully positioned on her lap, her blue hands pressing the cloth to the wound on his side.

Sean has nearly jumped out of his skin when he noticed Erik and then cried out:

"Raven, he is here! Erik is alive!"

"Erik," she has gulped down the sob, "Can you help me with Alex?"

Sean assisted them in moving Alex to the couch. The injured teen was deathly pale and Erik liked neither the weak breathing nor the unsteady pulse he had felt for, after gesturing to Sean to go get a clean blanket and bandages and call the ambulance, damn it.

"Raven," he gripped her shoulder and shook — she is shocked, he needs to be calm, but persuasive.

"Where is Charles, Raven?"

She pressed both hands to her mouth, rocking back and forth. Tears were streaming down her face, when she sagged in Erik's grip.

"C-can't find him anywhere, Erik… We can't find him! Oh god…"

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	14. Part 13

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As Sean continued to feed him the details of the evening attack, Erik was so devastated, not even the single part of him felt anything anymore, for he knew that the reaction will surface soon and already dreaded it. Bound by unvoiced promise, he helped Sean to treat Alex's wounds, helped Hank, trapped under the debris to get out, werewolf's ribs have been broken and the blue fur dark with blood in more than one place, he also had Raven drink the sleeping pills, desperate times — desperate measures, so she cried herself to sleep and then followed Alex to the hospital when the ambulance finally arrived.

He was blankly staring at the pristinely white ceiling when Sean's mop of red hair has appeared in the periphery, accompanied by the smell of shitty hospital coffee, which he dutifully accepted and even hummed thanks on autopilot.

"The red demon was not alone, he's brought the others. Two vampires and a necromancer," said Sean, "Alex has smashed the red one with the desk, but when the teleporter stabbed him. From behind," he gulped and continued, "The library has already been on fire when Alex woke me up and we ran to Raven's room. He was yelling something, wanted me to call Charles…"

Unsurprisingly, Hank claimed that he was unconscious all the time, since the far wall of the laboratory has exploded and he was buried underneath the fallen debris. The flask was nowhere to be found, as well as the helmet, as well as Charles.

Erik squeezed his eyes shut and tiredly rubbed his forehead, fingers pressing into skin in a hard, vain attempt at fighting the approaching headache, the stubborn visions from his last dream were not willing to give up. He had another one, yesterday night, when he briefly fell asleep in the library and opened his eyes in the graveyard of the old church on the hill, building half obscured by the untrimmed aspens and wild grapevines, greedily clutching crumbling walls for support, the flock of crows always spiraling down and up in the infinite dance. Not so long ago, he's seen the infernal building from the car window, when Raven was driving and asked her out of simple curiosity. The place looks cursed, shrugged Raven in response, even Charles doesn't know much about it and if he doesn't, and he's a walking Wikipedia in this department, she snickered, then you shouldn't ask me at all. In the dream, he reached for the dusty, wooden doors and pushed them apart and Shaw was standing at the altar, arms spread in a welcoming gesture. And then Erik was burning, flame has engulfed him from head to toe, and he has felt every inch of his skin screaming in agony, but his mouth remained closed, cries dying within, as the blazing heat was devouring him whole.

"Hey, Erik," Sean has touched his shoulder and quickly stammered out, "You looked really weird just now, kind of super gloomy. Ah, never mind that! Err… it's Alex. He's just said, that he wants to see us…"

"Okay," after all, he couldn't even pinpoint what has brought him to the hospital in the first place. But he followed Sean nevertheless, the same feeling of obligation firmly settled inside.

Alex was fine, if the scowl on his face directed at the nurse was any indication. After she had left, reminding them that they've had five minutes, before she comes back with the pills, Alex breathed out a couple of words, apparently curses, when he attempted to get into a sitting position and failed.

"Fucking shit!" sweat broke down his forehead and he panted, trying to catch a breath, pale skin becoming the exactly shade of the sickly white pallor Erik has so often seen on gravely injured people, mainly on their deathbed.

"One more display of idiocy and I'm tying you to the bed. For real," Erik promised.

"Relax, Lehnsherr. The painkillers will soon kick in. Why does it taste like fucking piss, Sean? Jesus, that hurts!" Alex finally shut up in order to sip water from the offered glass.

Idly, he pondered — the kid was already high as a kite.

Useless — decided Erik and got up.

"Wait, Erik," he heard and turned around, quickly masking his surprise, because Alex has never used his first name, "Sean told me about Charles. The relic's gone. It sucks, man. We are pretty much fucked up… but… Tell him, Sean…"

"What did you come up with this time?" he frowned at the strained, lopsided smile on the teen's face.

"Something really cool!" grinned Sean.

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The madness was definitely contagious, but, as sagely rasped out Alex, they were going to die either way. Why not, then? Really… First of all, the plan included Alex checking himself out of the hospital with a fresh stab wound in his side, some magical tricks involved. Sean and Hank have also agreed to participate and even though Erik always suspected Sean to be on the loony side, he didn't expected Hank to agree.

"We're the deadweight for you," pointed Hank, looking strangely at home in a basement filled with burning candles.

"Number seventy seven! At last!" whined Sean, "And why do I have to light all of them alone?"

"Because!" snapped Alex from the center of the magic circle.

"Erik," Hank beckoned him closer, "the pendant. You have to take it off, if we want the spell to work."

Suddenly, he hesitated. He remembered the moment Charles lifted something small and shiny from the table, lying amid the destroyed remnants of the cursed sphere and grinned, ecstatic, blue eyes alight with fierce joy, when he showed the relic to Erik.

"Can I take it?" Raven stood on the middle of the staircase, which led to the basement, clutching a railing. Once again, she was wearing her usual fair-haired persona, though this time she was in the old tattered jeans and jacket, hair braided tight and smooth, the baldric with plain, straight sword clearly demonstrating her intentions without any words.

So it goes, sighed Erik and took off the pendant. His dream is coming true this way or another. No, he swore, no way in hell he's going to lose, and he will never ever let Charles die.

_Good luck with that!_

Shit, the inner voices shouldn't be so annoying. This one was clearly defective.

Stepping closer, Raven took the relic and put the chain round her neck. Gone was the scared, lost girl. Here stood the slayer, the warrior with calm and cold eyes, still red from crying, now reflecting nothing but decisiveness and resolve.

"Final check, guys! Sean, watch it!" hissed Alex and pressed his hand to the side, the motion has probably pulled at his stitches.

"Sorry! Terribly sorry, man!" Sean nestled himself on the floor near Alex and took one offered hand, "Like this?"

"Yeah, you've figured it. Congrats!" Alex sucked in an uneven breath, "Hey, bozo, you too!"

When finally settled in the circle around the book, Alex gripped Sean's hand and Hank's furred palm and nodded to Erik and Raven.

"We'll be ready in an hour! Remember, the spell won't last for long. Up to five or six minutes maximum," he scowled, "if I manage it without coughing up blood, that is. Are you sure, that Charles is there too?"

"Absolutely."

The certainty came from within, no, rather from the same place his dreams have come, the knowledge granted to him from beyond, something he couldn't comprehend, but still accepted. Beggars can't be choosers.

"Okay, then. So, the principle is simple. With this spell I'll grant you my life force, my magic and my mind. So will those two. Theoretically," Erik felt as something painfully squeezed his chest, the words reminding him of the one who had to be standing by his side, "you'll get our shared knowledge and endurance, and don't forget about my magic. Although, the complicated spells are out of the question, you have to be able to create a nasty energy blast. Let's pray for that. Hank's pretty smart and strong. You can use it, I guess. And Sean is in to complete a circle. Also, three is a lucky number."

"Hey! This is unfair!"

Everybody ignored Sean's indignant squeak as Alex went on.

"Unfortunately, using Sean's abilities you have to be half-banshee, and we can't have it. And you won't suddenly grow blue fur or teeth. It doesn't work like that."

"Good luck, Erik," grumbled Hank and added, "Take care of Raven…"

The girl scoffed, confidentially putting her hands on her hips, lifting up her chin to emphasize the point.

"Thanks, Hank. I'm old enough to take care of myself."

"Stay alive," said Erik to no one in particular and turned on his heels, failing to ignore a heavy lump in his throat. The force of the spell does, in truth, recoil upon the caller. Multiplied. Even with the limited knowledge he possessed, Erik realized how severe the payoff will be.

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Outside they were greeted with a huge, blue moon, like an evil eye floating in the dark sky, a decoration someone has forgotten to take down.

"It's really blue, isn't it? It shouldn't be," chuckled Raven, regarding the night sun with the mix of awe and trepidation.

"Blue and foreboding."

"Yeah," she touched his sleeve, seeking reassurance against so evident sign of impending danger.

"Raven, you know that this is not your fight."

"I wish it wasn't," she simultaneously shrugged and grimaced at him, something flashing through her eyes too fast for Erik to catch the hidden emotion, "Charles will never look at me the way he looks at you, although you've known each other for how long… Eight or nine weeks? More?"

Honestly, he never expected this issue to come up. Especially not now.

"Raven, I," he stopped, unsure what to say in this case.

"Oh, come on," she nudged his shoulder and snickered, "No offence, Erik, only a tiny friendly advice. Your talking-about-feelings skills need improvement. Desperately."

Well, you can't even imagine, grimly thought he, while getting into the car.

"Logan will help us, if he gets there in time," said Raven, her knuckles white where she was grabbing the wheel.

"The town is going mad tonight, all the evil has crawled out to celebrate. How do they even know? It was supposed to be a secret, right?"

"You feel it in your blood," explained Erik, words leaving bitter taste in his mouth, "It sings in anticipation."

The feeling he has always interpreted as a premonition connected with his sense of incoming danger, a perfect intuition, a hunter's gift… has been something else, entirely.

"Great," said Raven, watching him from the corner of her eye, "demons have got Wi-Fi."

By being quiet, he brushed away Raven's attempts at holding a conversation; instead, he concentrated on his determination, mentally going through tactical moves, the most natural thing to him before a battle and probably the most useless course of action right now. The hill with the old church has appeared near the horizon, the building larger than he remembered, or his perception is already affected by some sort of illusion. The sorcerer was down, he must have buried himself in the tunnels, but Shaw had another one.

They approached the hill in silence; Erik was cutting the thicket with the sword, which went through it like butter, as their path ran closer to the graveyard on the top. Too late, a sudden flash of realization has made him pause for a moment. There has to be a secret passage somewhere, maybe an underground tunnel. Forcing himself into action, Erik has almost tripped on the fallen cross, when the thicket was suddenly over and they found themselves of the graveyard and — shit. The figure in the dark cloak was standing near the lonely stone statue of the one-winged angel, the second wing lost to time and desolation. The necromancer, and the man's occupation was sort of evident, as by the wave of his hand the ground groaned and the skeletons pushed themselves from the graves, emanating weak greenish light of the summoning magic.

_…Erik?_

The inquiry, weak and barely audible had Erik cry out in relief.

"Charles!"

Raven has thought that to be the signal, so she rushed into the battle with renewed vigor, the blade moving in the deadly, graceful pattern, as she aimed for the necromancer, pendant protecting her from offensive magic.

_You brought Raven…_

It was her decision, wanted to argue Erik, slashing through the bones, when he noticed the vampires, running to them from behind the building. So many, and when Alex will be ready with the spell… Okay, he figured that Charles will be able to hear him if he thinks at him what he can't say, but in the midst of battle it was extremely hard to keep his focus.

_Are you alright?_— he managed, and when the answer didn't come immediately, he panicked, the worst fears coming alive in his mind.

_Relatively…_

Backing up a few steps, he has received the impression of the strain in Charles' voice.

Calm, be calm, he told himself. He's got an excellent card up his sleeve.

_When I saw the teleporter reaching for the flask, I acted on a whim. Only later… your dream… I'm sorry, Erik, I've failed you…_

Erik growled and launched himself at the nearest blood-sucker, disemboweling him with nice, curt motion. The skeleton though, by some insight, threw itself on his right side and Erik stumbled, unable to help shield himself with goddamn broken arm. Instead, he kicked the creature's bony leg and backed to the stone, mindful of protecting his flank. Wait! The stone?

Fuck, he didn't even notice that he was standing almost at the church's door. The skeletons won't be able to come in, not so sure about the vampires, but…

"Raven!" he shouted, "Get in!"

He pushed the doors.

Shaw was smiling at him from the altar, helmet on his head, as he spread both arms in a wide, welcoming gesture.

"Erik, I knew you'd come, my boy!"

Insides of the church were exactly reminiscent of Erik's dream. The pile of wood in the corner — everything that was left from benches. The stone floor covered with dirt and occasional water spots, rotten leaves and withered, pale grasses covering the otherwise grey concrete. But in this very moment he only had eyes for Charles.

His Charles, back pressed to the altar as the chains ran like black snakes, down his wrists and to the floor, curling on the steps like leaving vines, too long to keep someone like Charles immobile. What is going on? Angry and determined, he rushed straight ahead.

Now, Alex, please, — pulsed the single thought.

Not more than ten feet were left to the altar when he stumbled upon invisible wall in the air and looked down at his feet. The seal, drawn on the stone floor with something dark and slick… the blood… was encircling the altar.

"Well, I have to admit, that I am surprised, Erik. When I was ready to get rid of the vampire, only imagine — I smelled you on him! After that, keeping him until you arrive, seemed to be a wise decision."

Shaw has jostled Charles up, the movement followed by the heavy rattling, and casually lifted him by the grip on the other's neck. Charles body was oddly lax, dangling like a broken puppet, only his hand reached for Shaw's helmet to be slapped aside, and Erik's breath was momentarily stuck in his throat.

"Raven!" he bellowed one more time. Shit! The pendant would come in handy.

"Charles," his voice was little above whisper, "what has happened to you?..."

Everything became white when Erik has got the image, he was not meant to see, the sickening crunch, sharp flash of pain and then nothing.

"Years of waiting will culminate in this moment. He's drunk something mine, Erik, and now I'll drink something his," he sneered, satisfied with the pun, when meanwhile Erik was rooted to the spot, eyes trained on Charles, fear tasted like an ice pick plunged into his heart.

Their eyes have met for a brief moment and resolution was reflected in the steady blue gaze.

_Erik, you must not look. Please…_

When Shaw's fangs tore at Charles throat, Erik screamed.

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	15. Part 14

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Something has been dreadfully wrong with Erik's perception of time. For him, everything and everyone suddenly started moving extremely slowly. Charles' body was slowly crumbling to the floor, Shaw was slowly licking his lips, a single streak of dark blood was slowly running down the corner of his mouth, Raven was slowly stepping through the door, her scream reverberating inside and out, multiplying the terror. And then, all of the sudden, it washed over him — the light, radiant and fierce, and Erik has been looking with many eyes simultaneously, when the weird words have left his mouth and a flash of red light collided with the invisible barrier. The ground beneath his feet shook.

Mentally cataloguing lots of different things at the same time, for instance, the almost comical look of bewilderment on Shaw's face, as Erik was shouting orders to approaching Raven and quickly pondering over the ways to get the bastard closely acquainted with his sword, the helpful idea to feed Charles his blood, at least some, have been stored in the back of his mind, when Raven ran up to him and smashed her blade through the pattern on the floor. The pendant was vibrating with blue light, the proximity to all other relics having created the resonance and the barrier gave in.

As fast as lightning, Erik has dashed ahead, weapon aimed at Shaw, while Raven, gloriously blue again, was kneeling near Charles, gently circling arms around his upper body, turning him on his side.

For a moment all his enhanced senses have been focused solemnly on Shaw, as the vampire grabbed the thin, silvery blade from the altar and blocked the blow.

A snide leer turned into a snarl when Erik has managed to leave a bloody scratch on the monster's neck. Fuck you and your relics — he has thought at Shaw, swiftly changing the hand, gripping a blade, sling coming off, not restricting his movements anymore. You've got the relics and I've got the sacred sword. Eat this, bastard!

He performed a complicated slashing move — the kind, he's been previously unaware he could pull at all, while the red ball of fire bloomed in his right hand. It smashed the vampire in the chest, sent him reeling, and Erik changed his stance when Shaw pounced at him, mind going through numerous tactics in quick succession.

A piercing whistle came from the door. The necromancer was heavily leaning on the doorframe, leaving smudgy, bloody handprints on the dusty wood. Without thinking, Erik hurled the wooden rubbish from the corner at the materializing teleporter with a single motion of his hand, never diverting his attention from Shaw.

Cool, fucking awesome — appeared a thought, not his, and then — a warning.

Hurry!

Spin, dodge the blow, strike… The flurry of his attacking moves was finally getting through the vampire's defenses. One more, Erik gritted his teeth and took a false swing to the left, struggling to get the opening and bury the sword in Shaw's heart, when the world has tilted to the side, his vision swimming for a second, before becoming hazy around the edges. The crucial moment missed, he swore, — violent wave of dizziness hit him, and all air has been squeezed from his lungs as if by the cruel hand.

No, not now! Please!

Swaying, he managed one more unsteady step, not seeing anything anymore, sound also cut off, when his knees hit the unforgiving stone.

Someone up there has probably thought that it was not frustrating enough — Erik was almost sure that he had heard Raven, screaming, through the over-heavy fog, compelling him to stand, but how could she not understand… World, decided Erik, was indeed a spiral.

The sword made a resounding clutter falling from his limp fingers; it was of a ponderous, startling make as the gravity forced Erik fall to his side, and that impressive sense of miscomprehension didn't let go of him, the cold biting into his core, sucking out the lingering desire to do something, to move, to get up.

Is it over? Like this…

Painstakingly slowly, he has lifted his head, all body slightly trembling with the effort of making the simplest movement. He must have blacked out for a minute or so, suspected Erik, because the scenery unraveling before his tired eyes told him so. Not that it was something pleasant. Absolutely wrong.

They have almost done it. Fuck, he has almost done. And now? Where are they now?

The sound escaping his mouth was pathetically reminiscent of the sob, but, what the fuck, no one would dare blame him.

Raven was silent, the blade threatening to pierce her heart, while she was kneeling on the floor near the dead body of the necromancer, clutching the bleeding arm and glaring daggers at the red demon, who was holding one of the blades in dangerous proximity to her chest. Charles!? Erik panicked, spark of fear instantly growing into a familiar wild fire, when he didn't immediately spot the familiar figure and when he did his heart almost stopped.

"Erik," said the vampire, his mentor tone was like the last nail in the coffin, deadly and final, "this act of insolence is not something I could easily forgive."

In one hand he was holding a chain with the pendant, helmet already gone and Erik understood with perfect, scary clearness that the instant Shaw has got his claws on the last relic they have been as good as dead, and, perhaps, Sean was right and they should've fled the county, the continent, run far, far away.

"Emma has told me a funny thing before dying," he continued, circling the altar and moving closer to Charles, spread on the stone floor, eyes closed and blood pumping freely from the horrendous torn wound in his neck, spidery rivulets of the dark liquid forming a curious pattern on the ground; watching it made Erik numb, as his vision became clouded with hot, almost too hot tears.

"She said that the hunter will defeat me for sure and that she could die satisfied, because of this. I wish she lived up to this moment, she certainly deserved it, that ungrateful bitch," Shaw scoffed to himself, contemplating, "Although, I don't want to digress from the main issue any more. And now, Erik, because of your little stunt I have to hurry, otherwise the vampire who so inconveniently turned himself into a relic will turn to dust before the main event. Can't have it. After all, his blood has given only a partial control over the relic," he grabbed Charles' hand with casual brutality and dragged his limp body closer to the altar.

He won't be begging, Erik shook himself to clear his head, he won't be begging Shaw to let Charles and Raven go. Either way, he needs to find the way out of this, to save them, because, indeed, he was the one who dragged Charles and the kids into this. And Charles, his beautiful Charles, his dear, too nice for his own good Charles will have to die. The single thought was circling in his mind, apparently not functional anymore, because the idea in itself was too terrifying to comprehend and spoke volumes about his mental state, but, honestly — he just doesn't have it in himself to care, not anymore. Fuck it all. The shitty realm, the Brotherhood… Fuck the humans, demons and everyone else.

The ritual must tie the demon to the will of the one who has called it — Charles' words echoed in his head, the meaning dawning on Erik like a powerful tide, wiping the reason, voice of duty and binding promise to guard and protect. There is nothing left.

_I'm sorry, Charles_, thought Erik, hoping that his half-assed apology will reach the only person, who mattered. And _I love you too._

"I know that you are listening," feverishly whispered he to no one in particular, "the Hell Master, the Lord of Nightmares. In thy name, I'm asking you to grant my wish," the heat, thick as a swamp, suddenly enveloping his body became greater, prickling sensation on his skin grew and Erik gritted his teeth, desperately concentrating on his desire, channeling everything into one single plea. This should be as good as any spell, he inwardly smirked, his wish, the wish of the hunter, the descendant.

…Save Charles, don't let him die, that has to be fine with you, he's a vampire, you see…

Shaw screamed, furious, but the last coherent word, before he lost himself has already left his lips.

"Come!"

Checkmate, you, son of the bitch!

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The world became enormously vast, then shrank to the size of the human body and Erik felt as if someone has taken him and molded into a tiny ball of light and stuffed somewhere in the dark corner, and someone or rather something else was standing up encompassed by the dark aura with completely unfitted sparks of gold and the realm wailed and grumbled under the enormous weight, too much magic, too much power focused in one spot. Somewhere in the town Logan has raised his head to the full moon turning red and swore, throwing the useless crossbow to the side and launching at the vampire with his claws. In the basement of the mansion, Sean was carefully settling too pale and cold Alex down on the mattress in the corner, uncontrolled ragged sobs shaking his frame when a violent shudder went through him and he clamped one hand over his mouth, eyes staring at nothing. In London, the Brotherhood quarters, in the residence of the council of seven, the mages in the secret chamber were hit by the wave of magic from beyond, some screaming, others fainting from the strain. Every single hunter in the world was awake now, at the same time when he, Erik, no, the Lord of Nightmares, opened his eyes.

The vampire, he knew inside out once looking at him — a former German landlord, philanthropist, faint rumors of cruelty and sadism shadowing his public image, turned by the female vampire whilst visiting the pleasure house. He stood before him, baring the teeth in a wide, triumphal smile, holding the helmet in the outstretched hand — the obvious reminder of that battle, the hero, gravely wounded, her clear, beautiful gaze holding his own like a lifeline. His love, his life, his only friend. The humans, weak and pathetic humans, had leaded them into the nefarious trap — beguiled his beloved into leaving his side, tricked him into unthinkingly attacking them and thus injuring the warrior.

They all are long dead.

"I pledge loyalty, my Lord," the vampire lowered his head, annoyance and disappointment circulating on the forefront of his mind, muted by fear.

"This world will kneel before Master," vampire was becoming more and more excited, "and we'll destroy it, wipe it clean so human abomination will cease to exist one and for all."

"You," the alien vocal cords were difficult to operate, "you, whose craving for annihilation is so intense will be granted it."

Surprise grew deeper on the vampire's face as the helmet was torn from his grip and his hand, previously touching her armor has been ripped apart from the body. The wild scream elicited painful misunderstanding and incredulity, before the rest of the limbs have been torn apart. He forgot how fragile physical embodiments here were, and how deadly his magic was… The demon, at the door, was desperately trying to flee, unable to teleport, he was pressing his back to the wall as if attempting to become one with it.

So be it. Humans call it sculpture if he's not mistaken. A memory resurfaced — yes, she's always told him that his sense of humor was something from beyond.

The shapeshifter was unconscious — he brushed her thoughts and, having found nothing worth his attention, let her be.

A scream of the trapped soul had him stop and listen to the one who called him, her descendant, the one he would never ignore.

Charles, the vampire on the verge of dissipating, spine twisted and broken, last drops of blood leaving his body, as he was looking down at the being in question in slight puzzlement. He was careful when he lowered himself next to the unresponsive creature and slit his wrist, sudden recollection didn't belong to him this time but to the hunter, Erik, as he called himself.

He made the blood flow freely when he pressed the wrist to the vampire's mouth, noting how quickly his body was reacting. Frowning, he retracted his hand, maybe, he's just made the mistake. Even he didn't know how his blood would affect the vampire.

Enraptured, he watched the other coming to his senses; tiny gasp escaped the vampire's mouth before his eyes cracked open, gradually slow, and the name was whispered with utmost devotion.

"Erik…" blue, and so wonderfully clear — has reflected he, when meanwhile, eyes opened wider and he was flooded by the wave of utter uncompromising realization, defeat and, upon studying the other's mind more carefully, he could admit that the mental power possessed by the vampire was unexpectedly formidable, even for him. Interestingly, in the whirlwind of the other's mind there was no fear. Only all-encompassing despair.

"Erik… No, my friend…" he could hardly speak as the words have been swallowed by unrestrained tears, but speaking was not necessary.

"Only my mind exists here," he said, "my power is my mind. My mind is my power. He, who called me, wished for you to live."

"He wished for me…" horror reflected in the expressive eyes, "For me? But, I… Wait!" he frantically looked around and he showed the vampire his memories to cut off the obligatory questions.

"I... thank you! You saved us! Thank you so much, my friend," he got to his feet, obviously pleased by the newfound ability to move, "But what will happen to Erik? If all you need is a vessel, you initially being the spiritual essence and all, which means as soon as you leave his body he'll be back?..."

Maybe, he pondered, I'll give him back this body. There's nothing left to stay for… in this realm.

"Ah," the vampire became so sad all of the sudden, reading his mind without premise, "Oh dear, I'm sorry. I never meant to! By the way, I thought that the power of the relics will evaporate since you are here, and I heard you only because we're holding hands, sorry!"

In truth, he himself has not paid attention to the fact that his hand was firmly holding the vampire's.

His descendant was a very impatient… man.

"You will live as he wished," said he, taking back his hand and stepping away.

This time he was leaving the realm of his own volition, determined to watch over her world from now on.

She would have liked it.

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	16. Epilogue

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Upon feeling the ghost of warm lips on his, Erik frowned, mind in the serene realm merging the vivid dreamscape rather than awake, and then, without even opening his eyes, grabbed Charles by the lapels of his shirt and smashed their lips in the proper kiss, forcefully plundering the pliant mouth, worrying the other's lower lip between his teeth.

_Erik, it's nice to see you too_— came the mental voice and Erik shuddered, for a moment overcame with astonishment, when he let go of Charles' lips, but not of Charles as he pressed him close to his chest, the embrace must have been a bit insistent and suffocating, but Charles was not prone to complaining.

"You're fine!" he rasped, "Oh gods!" and one more thing, "And why are you still telepathic?"

"Maybe, because someone has called the mightiest demon ever to bring me back to life," hummed Charles into the juncture of his neck and shoulder, both amusement and gratitude dripping from his words in the strange tandem, "I suppose, the blood of the demon had that effect. Don't worry, my friend. It's limited to the skin-to-skin contact."

"There will be lots of skin-to-skin contact," grumbled Erik and tightened his hands round Charles, the other sprawled neatly on top of him, a perfect weigh, a perfect form, not mentioning the most gorgeous.

With a soft chuckle, Charles extricated himself from the grip, rolled to the side of the bed and, after getting to his feet, flashed Erik a wicked smile. The disheveled look on him — a pleasure for sore eyes.

"Come with me," offered he, "I know for sure, that you've been dreaming about food. So, I'll tell you everything you want to know in the kitchen."

On the way to the kitchen they have stopped to share the long, heated kiss and Erik has nearly tripped on the rug in excitement, Charles openly laughing at him, but Erik didn't let him get away with it as he took an extreme pleasure in rendering the other totally speechless.

"What day is it? And where are your er… I mean, Raven and the others?" asked Erik as soon as he gulped down the glass of juice and started cutting his omelet into nice, neat pieces — he didn't want to look like a savage in Charles' presence.

"Three days have passed," small content smile graced his lips, "since you've done it. Saved all of us, though I can't but mention the fact that, all in all, you've been too reckless."

Erik did not even try to deny it as he motioned Charles to continue.

In short, Alex, the brat, was still in the hospital, having seriously overtaxed himself and thus needed the full-scale treatment. Raven and Sean were back at school, and Hank was back in the basement, healing, while conducting another set of experiments. Shaw — dusted, the red demon — turned into decoration, read, dead. Splendid, decided Erik.

"Okay, this means that the house is basically ours for the time being," mildly concluded he, heart hammering like mad when Charles instantly shifted, averting his gaze.

"I might be a little busy now, when you've woken up," he confessed, reluctantly, "I need a couple of hours or so to sort out the paperwork. Sorry, Erik, but this is quite urgent."

He must have stayed by my side the whole time, understood Erik, and the estate and all the funds he was aware of… couldn't just manage themselves.

"Right, but I've promised you a week in bed," smirked Erik, smugly noting the way Charles bit on his lower lip, the sign of nervousness or, probably, anticipation.

"You did. Either way, you need to eat. Here," he pushed the plate with sandwiches in Erik's direction and added, oddly quiet, "I've touched his mind, Erik. I think you do remember what has happened that night, but the things I have seen…"

"Listen to me, Charles," Erik measured him with a long, hard stare, "brooding doesn't suit you. More than that, you're not responsible for the pack of stupid mages screwing up who knows how many thousand years ago. Also, who in their right mind might have known, that the first hunter was indeed a woman and hooked up with the demon from beyond, no less. Gods, I can't believe it even now and we're talking about my actual ancestors."

_This is the case of the pot calling the kettle back, isn't it?_

Ah, it's you. Long time no see. Erik sort of missed this nasty inner bastard.

"Perhaps, I suspected," murmured Charles running fingers through hair — a great distraction for Erik in particular, "the legends were so one-dimensional, you know what I mean. Every hunter…"

Not now.

He promptly stood up, circled the table and enveloped wide-eyed Charles in a hug. There was nothing sensual in it, and his back protested the uncomfortable stretch, but, more importantly, Charles has finally relaxed, tension vanishing from his limbs and hopefully from his mind — if not, well, Erik had an excellent remedy in store. Charles had suffered so much in Shaw's clutches, and yet he has never stopped smiling, or offering support to Erik, or looking after everyone and everything. He was truly amazing.

"You've heard it, right?" teased Erik, "Now, you can stop watching over me. I'm not going to keel over or something."

"You promise?" the murmur was muffled.

"You are very well aware that I can't," he took Charles' hand and helped him to his feet, "Neither can you. But I will try."

Charles nodded, expression stern and still fond when he looked up and laced their fingers together.

_Me too…_

_._

_._

_._

After the satisfyingly long, hot shower he fell asleep on the too soft couch, while reading the authentic "Prophetic powers and foreseeing correctly" recently supplied by Charles, and woke up freezing. The window in his room was wide open, and white, delicate snowflakes were melting on the windowsill and on the dark floor, tiny puddles of water reflecting the warm orange lamp light. When he came to the window to close it, the snide wind threw at him a chilly handful of snow, made him excessively cold, for there was a noticeable difference between the temperature inside and outside, in the surrounding darkness, where winter, it seemed, has decided to announce Christmas beforehand in a rather abrupt fashion. Nature is going mad these days, mused Erik, realizing that he's got no warm clothes and, anyway, after he did fulfill his promise to himself and to his mother, he suddenly found his life strangely empty. No, completely the opposite. For now, it was full of things he's never had before, and today in the afternoon he caught himself contemplating the idea of the regular job, his fate having dragged him here for some reason, so it must be keeping other options for him as well. The hell hole could use another hunter in any case.

Having walked up the stairs he has reached the dark corridor of the second floor — stopped, prior to knocking — weird, celebratory echo of fine mood so foreign to his mind and temper.

_Man, what has become of you…_

At the far end of the bedroom Charles was standing next to the great fireplace, fire roared and blazed when he bent, feeding it another log and aspiring sparkles to dance.

"Erik… I thought, well, that you would be resting," flame hummed, as if voicing its agreement, "Have you been outside yet? It appears, um, a new witch has come to our town, hence the phenomenal snowfall. Extraordinary, isn't it?"

"Quite," hoarsely managed Erik, deliberately striding closer. And he just kissed him without any preamble, taking hold of Charles' shoulders and purposefully walking him to the bed until they tumbled together and fell onto the neatly made covers, efficiently turning Charles' spacious lair into chaotic tumble of sheets and blankets.

Soon their respective clothes formed the ungraceful pile next to the bed and Erik finally relished in touching and mapping glorious pale skin as he had been generously offered reigns tonight.

_I need you_ — he thought with burning intent, trailing gentle kisses along the graceful line of exposed neck, collarbones, chest, teasingly licking and sucking at each small bud until they became dark red and rigid, as Charles moaned, lithe body arching beneath Erik, demanding more. His lips brushed lower, tantalizingly slow, because as much as Erik ached to do it fast and hard like he used to, he wanted to capture it, to treasure every single moment, every sound and word coming from Charles belonged to him. Right here and right now. Charles whimpered when Erik's hand circled his cock and started pumping. Entirely satisfied with reaction Erik smirked and stilled his hand. When his tongue began exploring the stiff hardness he was positive that he has heard his name mixed up with more inarticulate sounds — the best award ever.

"Erik, I — can I?..."

If Erik wasn't smug before, he would definitely become now.

Charles looked deliciously strained, eyes huge on the pale face, his lips scarlet and swollen — the very definition of kissable, cock hard and leaking. In the half-light of the room he seemed so young, so innocent, despite everything Erik has been told by man himself and something he had figured on his own.

Unbelievable.

Erik leaned forward to plant another kiss on those tempting lips, just because he could.

"Good?" he asked, suddenly worried.

"You are actually, ah, asking me that," Charles got out, unconsciously arching into the touch, "I feel that what you're doing is, is unfair, umm, I…"

"How so?" his hand released Charles' cock and slid lower, caressing the most intimate place with the tip of one finger.

Charles shuddered and instantly tried to bring his knees together. By pressing his lips to the other's Erik has muffled the surprised gasp, and for a brief moment resumed their kiss, exploring that sweet, willing mouth, working his tongue deeper, making Charles relax into the touch.

_You're doing all the work… That's why._

"Apparently, I'm not doing enough, if you're still this coherent," Erik whispered, lightly exasperated, and added for good measure. "Just to make it clear, Charles. I'm going to fuck you now," Charles has actually moaned right after hearing that, so Erik went on, encouraged by the clear display of want, "I'm going to fuck you with my cock. Fill you up to the brim," he stoked the puckered entrance, accentuating his words, felt the delicate muscle tense under his touch, "And I'm going to make sure that you like it."

"I believe, this is, umm… the most straight-forward approach I've ever heard of," murmured Charles, the look in his eyes positively undone, "not that, uh, I've heard much."

"Relax. Let me make you feel good, please."

This time Charles was the one to initiate the kiss.

_Please, do._

Charles cried out loudly when Erik's fingers had hit his prostate, he jerked so Erik had to use one hand to hold him in place at the same time as his other hand was busy making his hole stretched and slick, as his fingers, three now, were sliding in and out of the tight, wet depth. The way Charles was writhing, calling his name both silently and aloud, the way he felt around his fingers was literally killing Erik with desperate, wild need.

Finally, finally he had Charles in the desirable position — spread before his gaze like the best Christmas present he has ever got; Erik leaned forward, pushing Charles' bent knees to his chest and pushing himself into the wet, tight hole, carefully watching blue eyes squeeze shut while his mouth remained half-open, wordless gasps filling the air.

"I love you," breathed out Erik, burying his cock to the hilt — gods, he felt he could come just from that alone.

The impact of his words made Charles' eyes snap open and he reached for Erik's face, his touch as tender and loving as it has always been.

"I already know," he said softly, gazing up at Erik like he was the most wonderful being in the universe.

The spell broke when Erik moved. Both of them have been caught up in the fire, gasping, moaning and clutching each other hard. In the heated frenzy, the realization struck Erik that this time during sex he had absolutely forgotten to keep tabs on his strength, constantly afraid to hurt a partner in the moment of passion. But now he was with Charles, who has just bitten on his shoulder, and Erik made a strangled surprised sound, because he really, genuenly liked it. So he let go. Completely.

They couldn't move for a while, joined in every possible way, and while the residual bliss was still circulating in his blood-stream, Erik though that if it was possible, he could die of pleasure right now.

_So a week, is it?_

Erik felt his lips stretching into a predatory grin on their own accord. He rolled on to his back, taking Charles with him, and laughed with pure joy, feeling something loosen up in his chest, deep inside the place they call a human soul.

His frame felt lighter, like he got the ability to fly all of the sudden.

Erik cradled Charles' face in his hands and said, schooling his features into the dead-serious mask, stupid smile threatening to break through the entire act.

"Absolutely right, Charles. Hunter always keeps his word."

.

.

_The End_

_._


End file.
